


Love to See the Tempest Come

by Vera (Vera_DragonMuse)



Category: Firefly
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-12
Updated: 2010-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-07 22:04:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_DragonMuse/pseuds/Vera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the American Revolution, Mal returns to his old life and builds a new family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am so overjoyed at the beautiful artwork that was provided for this fic from the fest artists!  
> Check out this amazing illustration: http://sinful-teddy.livejournal.com/37285.html  
> And these gorgeous chapter headings and icons which I will eventually embed: http://whiskyinmind.livejournal.com/842551.html?format=light

 

"From you have I been absent in the spring..." - Sonnet 98, Shakespeare

Farber's General Store was always quiet on Wednesdays. In the afternoon, Mrs. Farber always polished the counter until it shone and took extra care filling the candy jars. Mr. Farber would sit in the backroom and do the weekly accounting. When the gay silver bells over the door rang out, Mrs. Farber smiled gratefully and set aside the furniture polish.

"How can I help you today, sir?" She asked, smoothing back her hair under it's bonnet. The counter was tucked to the side and she never could see a customer until they were right on top of her.

"Do you still keep peppermint candies?" It was a man, familiar sounding, but his tread on the floors was off. A thump and a drag.

"Of course we do." She tried to peer around the shelves. "We make it ourselves, you know."

"I remember." He emerged from the shelves. Mrs. Farber gasped hard, then started to cry.

"Oh." She sniffed. "Mr.Farber! Come quick, it's the Reynolds boy!" She ran around the counter, nearly tripping over her skirts to pull him into her arms.

"Now, now." The boy...no, he was a man now, she could feel that in the grip of his arms around her.

"We heard you hadn't made it." She held on to him harder, sobbing loudly. "So many..."

"I heard about Jacob." He patted her on the back. "I'm truly sorry, he was a fine man."

"What's all this fuss about then?" Mr. Farber grumped as he came to the counter. "And who's this pile of rags?"

"Mr. Farber!" She gasped, pulling away. "Don't you recognize you're own neighbor?"

Mr. Farber squinted a little and while he took his time, Mrs. Farber looked too. The Reynolds' boy had been a proud sort, but this man looked beaten down. His clothes were ragged and patched though his crisp blue tri-corner hat seemed unscathed. His face was haggard and lined. Worst of all, one of his legs wasn't right. Whatever had wounded him wasn't bad enough to take the limb, but it was clear the odd scraping she'd heard before was him lugging it along. Probably close to useless. But oh! He was alive. Beautifully alive. She wouldn't have cared if Jacob had come back with no legs, surely it would have been better than just gone, buried somewhere in South Carolina.

"Malcolm Reynolds." Mr. Farber was finally nodding and reaching out his hand to shake. "It's been a long time."

"It has. I'm afraid I can't stay and talk. I only wanted to stop in and open up an account." He gave a half grin. "I've got a bit of money if you'd like a down payment."

"I won't be needing any such thing." Mr. Farber frowned. "There's been a Reynolds on that piece of land for three generations. I've a mind to see the fourth."

"Have you been back yet?" Mrs. Farber asked, anxiously. "You know it hasn't been looked after properly. A few of us stopped by from time to time to make sure no one took to living in it in the winter, but everything just ran wild after your father passed on."

"I know it." He shrugged. "I'll put it to rights again."

"At least let me find you someone to help around the house." She smiled sweetly. "There's a few girls in the neighborhood that could use some honest work. And you really shouldn't be alone."

"Oh, I'm not alone." He shrugged. "Though I don't think Mr. Alleyne knows much about keeping house. I'll hire someone when I've got the money to pay them with."

"You'll need some provisions to start with." Mr. Farber pointed out. "There's nothing there, but pots and pans."

"We've got a bit of travel fare left." Reynolds was already turning around to leave. It looked like a slow, painful looking process. "I promise I'll be back soon. If we're hiring on help, we'll have to kit ourselves out properly."

"You be well." Mrs. Farber called after him. Curious, she waited until she heard the bells tinkle again before moving to the shelves of preserves. She could peer between them to see the street.

Mr. Reynolds was stiffly mounting a huge black stallion. Standing at the ready next to him was a tall exotic looking boy, Spanish maybe though she'd never seen a real Spaniard. His clothes were, if possible, more ragged than Mr. Reynolds'. His dark eyes swept the street in suspicion, but he was quick to spot and help when Mr. Reynolds was looking uneasy on his climb up the saddle. Only when he was satisfied that the other man was settled did the youth mount the dusty mare that had been half-hidden behind the great horse. Together they rode off down the street, neither saying a word.

Mrs Farber readjusted the bottles and went back to the counter. Yet all afternoon, she found her mind wandering back to strange reappearance of Mr. Reynolds and the companion he'd called Alleyne.

~*~

"You know she was staring at us." Zach said quietly long after they'd left the small town behind them.

"Of course she did. I keep telling you I'm a very pretty man." He grinned at him, but Zach's eyes were on the road. "And anyway, she's just a harmless old woman."

"I don't like it."

"Who said you had to?" He pointed off out of sight. "The river's only a half mile through those woods. You can follow it from town all the way back of to home. Ever get lost just find the river and follow it upstream back home."

"I don't plan on getting lost, Captain." Zach set up straighter though, trying to get a hint of the promised water.

"We're a long way from enemy lines, you don't have to call me that anymore." Reynold's chided. "Anyway, you won't want to get lost when you see the place. Finest piece of land in the colonies."

"So you've said, sir." Zach grinned, unrepentant. "No way this place is gonna be half as pretty as your promised. Heaven couldn't be near so pleasant."

"Well, we're nearly there and you can judge for yourself."

Indeed, a low stone fence was just now appearing, running alongside them. They took the first turn off at the right and the wall followed them. The trees became less and less wild until it was all neat rows. The first hint of green leaves graced the gnarled branches.

"The orchard." Mr. Reynolds smiled. "Probably it's in the best shape. Clean up a bit from last year's debris and there'll still be apples in the fall. We can sell them by the bushel full. That and cider. And we won't starve. Dried apples got us through the end of more than one bad winter."

Abruptly, the stone fence came to an end. A sign had fallen to the ground, covered with shriveled leaves and dirt. In fading gilt letters it read: 'Reynolds Stables and Orchard. Est. 1699'. From there the land tilted up, culminating in a pleasant plateau where the house perched. It was certainly large, three floors of red brick with real glass windows. The roof was steep and black as tar. As they neared it , the two years of neglect became obvious. Some windows were broken, one of the front steps had rotted clean through and what must have been a charming kitchen garden had become overgrown with weeds.

"Well let's go see around back, first." Mr. Reynolds said quietly. "Than we can take a look at the stables, the servant's quarters and then the house. Figure out where we can sleep tonight and move on from there."

They rode on around the house. Here the fence was wood and like the stairs, it had rotted through in some places. It circled large pastures, all of which were long grown over, but their purpose was not entirely forgotten. A leather harness was still looped over one tall post as if still waiting for the long ago sold horse.

The stables themselves would need some patching up, but overall looked to be in better shape than the house. There was a nest of rats that would have to be dealt with.

"We can keep the horses in the old kitchen garden for now." The Captain decided. He hadn't dismounted, yet. His leg was stiff from the long day's ride and he knew once he got off, he wouldn't be able to walk far. Instead, he let Zach do the inspecting. "If they haven't run off on us yet, they're not about to start."

The servant's quarters were two pleasant cabins set off to the right of the property. They had been built to look like miniature versions of the main house, but had suffered much less in their master's absence.

"They need a good sweeping out." Zach confirmed. "But beyond that, we could sleep in them tonight if we'd a mind too."

"Maybe." The Captain rubbed the back of his neck.

"The main house then?"

"Guess it can't be put off any longer."

He rode right up to the door before carefully dismounting. Zach took the reins and led the stallion and the pony to feast on the little garden's weeds. It was too early yet for vegetables, even if there were any still alive. Still, Zach toed the dirt and nodded when it came up dark. It wasn't sandy like Florida's weak soil, but rich and wet. It would take care of them if they planted right. Between that and the apples, the Captain was right. They wouldn't starve.

Zach cautiously picked his way up the broken steps. The entry hall was littered with leaves and evidence of small animals, but he could see that it had once been quite pretty. The wallpaper was a gay floral pattern and the wood floors were even and smooth underneath the dirt. Someone had thoughtfully draped all furniture with sheets.

The hallway had two doors on either side and ended in a staircase. The first door on the right led to a sitting room with a large bay window. There were bookshelves lining the walls and dainty furniture under the sheets. After that was a more comfortable looking office that still smelled faintly of cigars and whiskey. Across the hall was the formal dining room where the family china remained unmolested in its cabinet. The last door was the kitchen. It was a generous size, larger than the dining room. A shabbier table with mismatching chairs took up the center of the room. The Captain was sitting in one chair, his bad leg propped on another.

"I think it's safe enough to sleep here for the night." Zach mused, slipping into another chair. "We can set up bedrolls in here and light the stove. I can collect enough wood for that."

"He died here." The Captain's eyes darted around the room. "Right at this table. In the middle of breakfast. My sister came back from Boston to clean up."

Zach watched his face carefully. "She did a good job."

"She did the best she could." He rubbed his face with one hand. "I haven't been home since the war started. That's what.... eight years?"

"Nine, sir."

"Nine years." He sounded more tired than angry. "I used to vow one day I'd come back and show him what a real man was like. Take care of my sister and my mother, take over the business. Now what's left?"

"I reckon we're still alive." Zach said quietly. "And it's probably better that he isn't. Fathers have a way of not seeing their children."

"You're right." He sat up a bit straighter. "Let's look at the other two floors."

The stairs were slow going. The Captain clung to the banister with one hand and his cane in the other. Zach followed behind him, ready to break his fall if necessary. They reached the second level with little issue. There were two little rooms, one for a nanny and the next for the nursery, then the large master suite with small washroom. The bedding had been stripped and stored in a cedar chest. The wardrobes had been emptied. The tub in the washroom was clean enough, but the idea of dragging buckets of hot water up the stairs seemed like far too much effort.

"We can wash up in the sink." The Captain agreed, already starting up the next set of stairs. "Mrs. Farber thinks we should get a servant."

"With what money? What we got, we can't sell. Not without raising all the wrong kind of eyebrows."

"That's what I said." He shrugged. "But we will need one eventually. And someone to help with the horses."

"I can do that."

"This is a forty horse stable at minimum." The Captain grinned. "You plan on doing all that with only a lame man for help?"

"If I have too." Zach said grimly.

"I know it's been just you and me for a long time." The Captain sighed. "Wish I could keep it that way for both our sakes, but it's just not realistic. This place is too big for two people to manage. Hell, even when we were at our poorest there were five people besides the family living here."

"And what about..." Zach trailed off, raising an eyebrow.

"That's up to you, but it'll have to all come out sooner or later." The Captain shrugged. "If they don't like it, they don't belong here."

The third floor had another impractical wash room and four bedrooms. The captain pointed out his childhood bedroom though there was nothing to distinguish it from the other rooms. Nine years ago he'd packed a small bag and set out to join the local militia and he hadn't been back since. In the meantime, someone else had slept here.

"Probably shoved whatever I left into the attic."

"Do you want me to check, sir?"

"Not tonight."

They took the long journey back to the kitchen together. The Captain made dinner from the food left in their packs while Zach checked on the horses and scrounged up some dried wood from the orchard. They ate next to the warm stove and fell into a heavy sleep next to its flames.

The next day, the Captain was all business. He'd found a quill, ink and some clean paper in his father's office and started to make lists of what needed doing. He had a small pension from the army which would help a bit, but they needed to get money in to get the stables off the ground again. When he'd left, Reynolds Stables was one of the best known names in horseflesh in the northeast, but that reputation had had all the long years of the war to melt into obscurity.

"I'll get my pension in a few weeks." He mused. "Until then we can go back to town and get some groceries on credit. There won't be apples for months. We'll need cash to buy horses."

"We could take on boarders." Zach suggested. "The cottages won't need much work and the rent could keep us floating until autumn. Maybe by next year we can tap our other resources."

"Good idea. There's always someone traveling from New York to Boston that could do with a night's rest. Maybe even some fancier folks might pass a night, if we make it respectable. But we'll need to cleaned up first. Won't look appealing otherwise."

"Maybe we should wait to post a notice then. It'll take a few weeks to get this place in order." Zach said, looking around the dusty study.

"Not if we take someone on first." The Captain put down his quill.

"Thought we were going to wait on that."

"I did too, but if we want boarders, we can't wait on them ourselves. We'll need someone to wash linens and have breakfast on the table. I can cook enough for a night around the campfire, that's about it. You?"

"Fine, but I want a say on who we hire."

"Of course." The Captain grinned the way he always did when he got his way.

A plan in place, they both breathed a little easier. They spent the rest of the day surveying the back forty. Once, the stables had produced hay for their own horses, setting aside extra for profit. The fields were in ruin now, but could be rehabilitated if they had the manpower to manage it. Zach investigated the surrounding woodlands and they discussed what should be taken down for their firewood. They wouldn't need much at the moment, March was loosening it's wintry claws and April would bring enough warmth to forgo the nightly flames.

They spent the next week trying to get the place in order. It seemed like for everything they fixed there were five more things that needed doing. Zach would decide to work on the front steps which would need some fresh planks. When he looked in the tool shed, he found most of the tools had rusted. So they spent the afternoon cleaning the lot, figuring out what they could spare and what would have to be thrown away. The saw was in good enough shape that Zach was able to fell a tree and plane out the correct size planks to replace the rotten steps. When he pulled out the planks, he found an angry raccoon that wasn't pleased to be dislodged. Eventually, Zach ran him off and cleared out the space under the stairs. Only to discover that it wasn't just a few bad steps, they were all rotten clean through and had to be pulled out. A job that should have taken one morning stretched into three days. That's how it all was.

And the worst of it were the stable rats. The Captain had taken to going out and taking pot shots at them with his musket in hopes of scaring them away. They had gotten into the horses' grain no matter how tightly they sealed it shut.

"I swear to God, I'm just gonna shoot them until they stop coming." He muttered one morning as he and Zach stood in front of the grain. "It'll be the Princeton Battle all over again. In miniature."

"You need to get it off the floor." A sweet feminine voice rang through the stable. The Captain stared at Zach who shook his head and pointed towards the door.

A trim young lady with a handsome, smiling face was staring in at them. Her dress was plain and clearly travel worn. There was a smudge of dust on her cheek.

"Excuse me, miss?" The Captain cleared his throat.

"Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt, only that it's common knowledge that rats can jump. If you make sure to plug up the holes and then install the shed farther up the wall...." She came forward, pointing to a space a foot or so above her head. "You can put in a spout and empty the grain out from the bottom. The rats can't get in cause it's too high up."

"Well that's mighty nice advice, miss, but you mind telling me who the hell you are and what you're doing on my farm?" The Captain crossed his arms, staring down at her.

"My name's Ms. Kaylee Fyre." She blushed. "I'm sorry to intrude. I went up to the house, but no one answered. Than I saw the horses in the pasture and thought maybe someone was home after all."

"What can we do for you Ms. Fyre?" Zach asked. Kaylee glanced at him and blushed even harder.

"Well- I just. I heard from Mrs. Farber that maybe there was a position here."

"That interfering piece of baggage." Mal frowned. "What she doing sending a nice girl like you out here to work for men like us without no one else around?"

"I'm a hard worker." She stared at the ground. "I can cook some, clean like a whirlwind and I'm used to taking care of menfolk without other women around."

The Captain glanced over at Zach, who shrugged than nodded.

"What about your kin?"

"Dead." She said flatly, eyes darting away. "Or good as anyway."

"No man to look after you?"

"No." She squared her shoulders and looked the Captain in the eye. She had a fierce look to her, sweet, but a little wild. "I look after myself and if you'll let me, I'll look after the both of you too."

"There's a lot to do." He warned her. "It's not just a kitchen job. And it's likely we won't hire anyone else for a while so it'll be on you. Laundry, cleaning, cooking and lending us a hand in your free minutes."

"I'm willing to work." Her shoulders squared up and Zach nodded approvingly.

"We'll give you meals and a room." The Captain decided. "We can't pay anything right now, but how about once percent of the profit when we start to turn one."

"Five and free stabling for my horse." She countered, her posture straightening further now that she smelled the deal in the offering.

"Two."

"Five." She repeated.

"That's not how haggling works." He complained. "You got to come down some."

"Fine, how about four, stabling and a yearly allowance for new clothes."

"That sound fair, Zach?"

"Sir, I don't know what the hell is fair in situations like this. Pardon my language, Ms. Fyre."

"It's fine." She smiled. "I've been known to use a few strong words myself when the situation calls for it."

"Guess that's settled on. We can write something up and have someone in town witness it."

"That won't be needed, sir." She kicked hard at a rat that came sniffing around her boots. "Seeing as I can't read. I'd prefer just to shake on it."

"All right." The Captain extended his hand and they shook. She wasn't wearing gloves and he could feel all the callouses she bore. "When can you start?"

"As soon as you like. I came here straight away, didn't try to get a room anywhere. All my things are on Misty." She went back outside, the Captain and Zach trailing her, both still bemused by the whole episode.

Misty turned out to be a fine brown mare, carrying two very care worn saddle bags.

"She's a beauty, Miss." Zach rubbed the mare's nose.

"Just call me Kaylee, if you don't mind. I like it better."

"Than you can call me Zach."

They both turned to look at the Captain, who stared back at them.

"Captain Malcolm Reynolds. I expect to be referred to with respect." He mustered all the dignity he could. Kaylee smiled brightly at him.

"Yes, sir. So can I start now, sir?"

"Go on ahead. I'll stable your girl. Zach, give her one of the second floor rooms. You'll have to clean it out first, I'm afraid."

If the Captain still believed in God, he might have thanked him for Kaylee. With her arrival, the work around the place sped up at an amazing rate. Her cooking was passable and spared them the time and effort of throwing together meals. She was as hard a worker as she had promised, cleaning with deadly efficiency. Though she told them no more about her past, it was clear that she was accustomed to all kinds of work and often paused in her regular duties to help Zach cut wood or saddle up Achilles, the Captain's big stallion or to build a small chicken coop by herself after Mrs. Farber came by to gift them with a few hens and her least favorite cock.

By the time the Spring air was blowing sweet, the big house was so clean that it gleamed. Gone were the sheets covering the furniture, the windows were all whole and the kitchen was no longer a bedroom. Outside, the drying line had been rehung and their sheets were dried clean in the sun. Kaylee had even made good head way on the guest houses, scrubbing them clean and planning patterns for new cheery curtains.

"Breakfast!" Kaylee shouted in the morning, calling them down from their beds. She rose with the angry old rooster, always looking fresh faced. It was enough to annoy a man. "Mal! Zach!"

"I told you not to call me that." He informed her as he stumbled down the stairs. "What will people think?"

"What people?" She set down a plate full of eggs and hash browns. "Or are you hiding someone in your bedroom? I'll be good if we have guests. Just seems silly pretending on formality when it's just the three of us."

"No salt?" He asked mournfully.

"Get some money in and then we'll talk salt. We've only got a pinch or so left and I'll need that to make what's left of the jerky taste all right." She turned back to the stove, readying Zach's plate just at the other man came into the room.

"Good morning, Kaylee." Zach sat down, smiling. "Smells good."

"Thank you." She smiled at him, before turning her glare back on Mal. "See? Zach's not complaining."

"Zach burnt out his tastebuds being raised on spicy food."

"What kind of spices?" Kaylee brought her plate to the table.

Mal had clear memories of growing up in this house and not once had a servant ever dared to even imply that they should sit with the master of the house during a meal. Yet, Kaylee had taken her place without so much as a how-do-you-do and Mal couldn't find it in himself to dislodge her.

"He's exaggerating." Zach said, spearing a bit of egg on his fork. "Spices were too dear to use in great quantities. Paprika was what my mother pinned for. That and saffron. We would buy them in pinches to spread over special meals."

"Pap-ri-ka." Kaylee repeated slowly. "It sounds pretty."

"It is. Red like clay." Zach ate another bite. Then pointed his fork at Mal. "So what's it to be today?"

"Let's keep on with the pasture fence. I want to get it right before we go to that trade meet next month. I got my pension money now and that bit of my Ma's jewelry Kaylee found in the attic. Bet we could use that to get ourselves a sweet little mare or two, get our breeding stock started."

"Sounds fine, sir." Zach nodded along.

"And it's laundry day up here. Looks sunny enough to get everything good and dry." Kaylee smiled into her eggs. "Maybe I can get the last of the guest houses scrubbed out while I'm at it."

They finished off their meals and left Kaylee to take care of the dishes as the headed down to the pasture. Mal's leg was still stiff and sore, but he was learning to move around it. Zach had found a good hard stick and whittled it down to sensible cane for him. Everyday he walked on it, relying less and less on Achilles to haul him around the pastures and orchard.

The fence work took up most of the morning. They spoke little as they worked. When the sun grew uncomfortably warm, they slunk over to the edges of the forest. Kaylee came down with a hunk of cheese and loaf of bread, along with a bucket and dipper full of cool well water.

"Washings about done. When I get everything up to dry, I'll head out to the guest lots and tidy things up. Bring the tray up to the house when your done here." She smiled at Zach shyly and than headed on her way.

"Girl's got an interest in you." Mal said around a mouthful of cheese. "Might be looking to set her cap."

"She can look." Zach smiled. "I like her anyway. Even if she is pregnant."

"What?!" Food went flying out of Mal's mouth like someone had punched him in the stomach. "Since when? How?"

"I suspect in the usual way." Zach smirked. "And probably not long before we took her on. Doubt she knew it then. But I've seen the beginning signs."

"What are we going to do?" Mal moaned. "Someone's gonna accuse us of getting up to no good with her."

"So?"

"So?" Mal fumed. "So! We got a reputation to make here."

"What reputation is that, sir?" Zach asked, raising in an eyebrow. "We don't got to church, we took on a girl servant without a wife between us and are proposing to board strangers as long as their currency is good. Not to mention you're keeping a foreigner like me about. If you weren't a war hero and all, bet they'd say a lot worse than they already do."

"What about her?" Mal said slowly. "You know how it is, they might not say nothin' to us, but they'll go hard on her."

"You could marry her."

"I'm old enough to be her father!" Mal sputtered. "And it's not exactly like marrying like."

"You're not quite that old, yet, sir." Zach shook his head. "Maybe it works out anyway. I mean, you not really being the marrying kind anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit." Zach leaned back against the tree, curls running loose from his usually neat ponytail. "This way, you have a nice wife, a baby. Makes us look very legitimate and sweet."

"Seems unfair." Mal frowned. "To her and me. Locked up together like that."

"Well, if it's just for show, nothings to say you can't both stray if you want."

"Still."

"What's the alternative? You don't want her running around with an illegitimate kid, but you don't want to make it legitimate. You want to run her off? It's what other people would tell you to do."

"I couldn't do that to her." Mal shook his head. "No, you're right. When we go up for the night, I'll talk to her about it."

They went back to their work, but were unable to regain their silent efficiency. The afternoon was full of bungles, dropped logs and splinters. It was a relief when the sun started to slide down over the trees. They trudged back up the hill, Mal white-lipped with the effort. Dinner was subdue as if Kaylee had picked up on their mood. She didn't do her usual nattering, but ate quietly.

"Something we have to talk to you about, girl." Mal finally broke the silence as she cleared the table. "You just meet us in the office when you're done here, all right?"

"Yes, sir." She said faintly and went on with the washing.

The office was still a dour affair, but Mal had done his best to exorcise the lingering remains of his father. The desk had been cleared out and pushed to one side, the windows and curtains thrown back to encourage in the sun and the leather chairs brought in front of the fire place. Here Mal and Zach spent the evenings reading or making plans while Kaylee readied the house for bed. Sometimes, she would join them and try her hand at his mother's old needlepoint. So far it had eluded her, but she made very merry messes.

The fireplace wasn't lit tonight, the evenings having grown balmy and sweet. The oil lamp danced in the window sill, painting shadows on the lawn. Zach rolled them both cigarettes, lighting them off the lamp before handing on to Mal and taking a long drag on his own. They smoked and watched the window until Kaylee knocked tentatively on the door.

"Come in." Mal barked.

She opened the door slowly, head bowed. Behind her in the hallway was the battered saddle bags she'd arrived with.

"Girl, why do you have your things packed?" He asked, nonplussed.

"I figured you knew." She sniffled. "...the way you were looking at me... I'm not a bad person, Captain."

"I didn't think you were. I'm offended that you thought I would just kick you out." Mal pointed at her usual chair. "Sit."

She sat and looked up at him, ready for judgment.

"Oh, Christ. Stop looking like a kicked puppy. Zach and I talked about your situation and we're not the kind of people that could toss you out cold. Only tell me, can we expect trouble from the father?"

"No, sir." Her voice started to wobble a bit. "I-he... It was right after my Pa died. I took up working for a mill a few towns over. The owner's son was real nice to me and said maybe we could get married some day. But his Daddy had other plans and they gave me some money and told me never to come back or tell no one." Her shoulders started to shake. "When I got back home, my Ma told me the money was dirty and so was I, if I wanted to live like that I should just not bother coming home."

"That's hard." Mal shifted uncomfortably as she took out a handkerchief and scrubbed ruthlessly at the few tears that had escaped. "I don't reckon well with men who would treat a nice girl like that."

"It's my fault." Kaylee sniffed. "For being so stupid. And now I've gone and brought my troubles on the both of you."

"Well, turns out that your troubles might be of use to us." Mal said quietly, sitting down. "Look now, Zach and I ain't exactly all that we look like. We've been soldiers and we ain't always been saints either. We don't intend to start changing our act now."

"I don't know what you mean." Kaylee gave him a watery smile. "You've been so good to me and all. And you do good honest work here."

Mal glanced up at Zach who shrugged and made a 'go on' gesture.

"I guess you could say that we've got loose morals." Mal scuffed his foot on the ground.

"What he means to say is that we're thieves." Zach leaned his hip against the window sill. "Or we were once and probably will be again to keep us all in such fine conditions as we are now."

"Well, if you're thieves, how come you're so..."

"Poor?" Zach snorted. "Captain, you want to tell her?"

"No." Mal sighed. "Look...we were doing what a lot of other people were doing. Taking from the places we passed through, just bits and bobbles what wouldn't be missed. And we never took advantage of any women and shot men what tried."

"That's...nice." Kaylee blinked confusedly at him.

"Yeah, well." He coughed. "Anyway. We probably would have kept on like that if it weren't for this nice big mansion we came across just stock full of Red Coats. After they got chased out we found ourselves a whole lot of nice looking gems and the like. Some rich man's secret stash. So we took it."

"Only it turns out that the rich man was more like a Duke or Earl." Zach rolled his eyes. "Which I warned the Captain about, but does he listen? No. So we steal the stuff, only to find that this guy still has a lot of clout for an Englishman. And he's been sending mercenaries around to figure who's got his things."

"So we can't exactly use any of it right now." Mal frowned. "And I did listen. Just didn't figure on him being so bloody minded about getting it all back."

"I thought all the mercenaries had gone home?" Kaylee had put aside the handkerchief, eyes no longer watery.

"Oh, most did, but the roughest of them got left behind." Zach shook his head. "Those what were impressed originally for crimes committed and that sort of thing. Their officers weren't interested in paying their way back."

"So that's the past thieving....what about the future thieving?" She asked.

"We make our way anyway we can." Mal said firmly. "We'd prefer it to be legal, but we do what we have to do."

"And how does me being like I am going to help you?"

"Well, it does add a nice bit of respectability to a man if he has a wife, don't you think?" Mal asked, smiling tentatively. "Especially if she's inclined to give him a child right quick."

"Sir?" Kaylee looked startled eyes darting between him and Zach. "Is this a joke?"

"No joke. Look, I know I'm no prize, but I promise not to bother you about wifely duties." He glanced over at Zach, who appeared to be studying his fingernails.

"Oh." She curled up into herself a bit. "What about my job?"

"We made a deal, didn't we? You can keep up like you have been until you need to take to your bed for the baby. And you'll still get your share of the profits." Mal assured her. "Reckon next year we'll be in a better position and we can get you some help around the place."

"That'd be nice." She said faintly. "Zach?"

"Yes?" He looked up from his nails at her.

"Why not you? Wouldn't it still be respectable if I married you?"

"Baby won't look like me, will it?" Zach pointed out quietly. "People'll notice a white baby coming from a Spaniard."

"No." She smiled weakly. "But I suppose while we're telling secrets, I should say that I know yours too."

"Then you know why I wouldn't marry you. It'll out one day and then you'll be back in the same pot of trouble. Only worse."

"How'd you guess?" Mal asked, looking bewildered.

"Never you mind." Kaylee took a long breath, sat up straight. "Thank you, Captain. I think I would like to marry you."

"Don't do me no favors now." Mal scowled. "I know I'm not your first choice or even your third."

"You're the best on offer and I'm fond of you." She smiled at him. "I know you're a good hearted man, even with all this talk of thieving. And even if you've got loose morals, I'm not in a position to judge."

"Guess that'll do then. It'll have to be a quick wedding, before anyone can get to suspicious. And we've got next to nothing to do it with."

"Leave that to me." Kaylee smiled, starting to look a bit like her old self. "Well fancy that. Mrs. Kaywinnit Lee Reynolds. Has a nice ring to it."


	2. Chapter 2

 

"Come we to the summer, to the summer we will come,/For the woods are full of bluebells and the hedges full of bloom" - Summer by John Clare

"Thank you all for coming." The Captain stood up, silencing the few milling guests. Most of them nosy neighbors who couldn't resist an invitation. "The Reynolds have been here a long time and we've always been grateful for our great good fortune in friends." A few people cheered. "So I would like to toast not only to my lovely new bride, but to every one of you who helped us make this day very special. Including, Mr. Adams, who so kindly provided the ale."

The cheer was louder this time and everyone drank a toast. The food was simple, but in great quantities thanks to the pot luck invitation. She did look lovely in a simple green dress that belonged to one of Mrs. Farber's daughters. Mal had been stuffed into one of Mr. Farber's old suits with less success. The afternoon was going well, everyone offering advice in marriage and business until Mal was sure his grin would be frozen in place permanency. For once though, luck was with him and a light rain shower drove everyone into the house and from there out the door home.

"Wasn't that fun?" Kaylee beamed as she led out the last guest. "And we've got enough food left over to eat for a week!"

"Fun is one word for it." Mal gratefully shrugged off the stifling jacket and tossed it to one side. "All smiling with me with one side of their mouths and telling gossip with the other."

"I could make it up to you." She slid her hand into his and smiled at him, a little shyly.

"I told you, I wasn't going to ask you for that sort of thing." He shifted uncomfortably.

"You didn't ask what I thought about it." She pointed out.

"And I thought you'd hung your hat on Zach."

"We'll see about that." Kaylee squeezed his hand. "Don't you think I'm pretty, husband?"

"You're very pretty." Mal frowned, trying to find a way out of it without hurting her feelings. "I just don't want you getting false hopes about things."

"I'll try to keep myself in check." She sighed. "I know I'm not your bride by choice, but I think it'd be nice just to be close with someone for a while."

"We'll be sleeping together." He said weakly. "We'll be close then."

"And we'll both be stiff as boards thinking about it. Bet we won't sleep a wink." She raised an eyebrow, a look she'd surely picked up from Zach.

"Why you so strong on this? Most women I know would rather their husbands let 'em alone."

"I like it." She ducked her head, flushed red. "Most women I know hate it, says it hurts, but I've always liked it, even if it is sinful."

"Well, it ain't sinful between man and wife." Mal ran his thumb over the top of her hand. "But don't go expecting things from me, I'm an old man and lame to boot."

"Oh, I think you'll manage somehow." Kaylee looked back up, smiling again.

"This isn't going to make anything bad between us or Zach?"

"Not if I can help it." She assured him, leading him upstairs, taking it at his pace.

The tumbling was sweet and true to her word, Kaylee did seem to be enjoying herself. There were a few tense moments when Mal's body almost failed on him, but it came through and they wound up curled together, his hand cupping her stomach.

"See? That wasn't so bad." Kaylee laughed a little.

"No, it wasn't."

She fell into a deep slumber, but Mal felt itchy. He got dressed and went back downstairs, thinking on some of the leftovers. Zach had beaten him to it, already settled at the kitchen table with a bit of potato salad and a mug of coffee.

"Here's to the married man." Zach saluted him with the mug.

"Yeah." He got out a fork and speared a piece of potato off Zach's plate. "She's still thinking on you."

"Does that bother you?" Zach's face was as bland and unreadable as the night they had met, all those years ago. His stranger face.

"No. Reckon you'd be doing me a favor." Mal chewed slowly. "But mind her feelings, all right?"

"She's a woman grown. She can mind her own feelings." Zach shrugged. "Now get your own dish before I stab you with my fork. Sir."

They ate on in companionable silence.

The next few days passed in idyllic calm. The apple trees were starting blossom and Kaylee happily bedecked every corner of the house with their cheery pink offerings. Mal and Zach finally finished the fences and started in on fixing up the stables. At night, Kaylee slept peacefully next to Mal, but made no more overtures. Her belly was starting to softly round under her light summer frock. Mal would curl his hand around the small bump and found it helped him sleep. Sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, he would catch her making eyes at Zach or caught the two of them making hushed conversation. It was sweet, if strange and likely to come out to no one's advantage.

They were sitting out on the new steps only a few days after the wedding when they heard the approach of hoofbeats.

"It's late for guests." Kaylee frowned. "Won't have much to offer them. You don't think it's someone come to take a room, do you?"

"Doubtful." Mal reached for his musket, only to remember that he'd left it in his office when they'd come in for the afternoon. Zach's hand was similarly twitching. "Seeing as how I don't hear a carriage. Not many as would travel on horseback at speed."

"Go inside, Kaylee." Zach said softly. "Get the Captain's musket. If they get in, you shoot them."

Kaylee rose slowly, squinting into the distance.

"Now, Kaylee." Mal barked.

Her face finally registered fear and she headed inside. Zach shut the door behind her and withdrew the long knife he kept in his boot. Mal looked around for anything he might use for a weapon, but it was already too late for that.

They came down the hill like the Devil was at their backs. Three huge horses, black as night, ridden by three huge men. Their teeth were bared, their clothes streaming behind them. For a moment, it seemed they wouldn't stop at all. That they might just trample their prey. But at the last minute, the riders bore up on the reins. The great beasts reared up, throwing dust up every which way.

"We look for Malcolm Reynolds." The lead rider boomed.

"And a good evening to you too." Mal smiled. "Welcome to my humble house. Can I get you gentleman anything?"

"Shut up." The lead rider leveled a musket at him. "Are you or are you not, the thieving lying sack of shit that stole the Lady Wellington's entire dowry from her home?"

"Nope." Mal put on a puzzled face. "I don't steal things, sir. That would be wrong and a sin."

"We know it was you." The rider dismounted, approaching slowly. "Our tracker here hunted you down, didn't he?"

"Did he now?" Mal looked up at the two mounted men. "Then he's in error."

"That vas me." The rider on the left horse grinned, showing off a surprisingly white smile in an otherwise dirty face. "No error."

"That's a mighty long hunt to go on." Mal said quietly.

"I find things. It is not hard."

"How much are these men paying you?"

"Pay? Only food and maybe a woman sometimes." The man had a heavy Hessian accent.

"That's a shame now. A fine tracker like you ought to be making a part of the profits."

"Now see here!" The lead rider interrupted. "We're here to get what's owed to us, not talk labor relations."

"Keep talking." The Hessian looked at the lead rider and the man gulped. "I steal little bit for my family,and zay inscripted me and vill not take me home."

"See, I don't hold with that. What's say you come work for me? I won't lie, we don't have a lot just yet. But we'll turn a profit soon and maybe you get a cut of that. Say five percent?"

"You can't do that!" Protested the lead rider.

"Ja, I can." The Hessian suddenly lashed out, kicking him square in the head. The man fell over in a heap.

"So that's a yes then?" Mal asked. Zach stared down at the unconscious man, shrugged then started going through his pockets.

"You." The Hessian turned the other rider, who had been watching all this with an expression of quiet horror. "Go back, tell them that I vas killed on the road, ja? Tell them their things must be all gone."

"Is he dead?" The man asked, looking at his fallen leader.

Mal kicked at the body.

"Looks like he might be soon. How bout you take him back with you? Add a little truth to your story."

They all watched as the shaking rider dismounted, hefted up the body and threw it over his horse. He rode off, cursing under his breath.

"You really haf job for me?" The Hessian gazed down speculatively.

"We really do. Why don't you get off that monster and we'll talk about it." Mal smiled.

"What's your name?" Zach asked.

"Cobbler. Johannes Cobbler. But so many Johannes, they call me Jayne." He pronounced the J with a soft H sound, but Zach stifled a giggle anyway.

"A man called Jane, well fancy that."

"Jayne." He corrected, dismounting from his horse with a loud thump. "Und you?"

"I'm Zachery Alleyne." They shook hands, Zach 's eyes widened as the Hessian's hand engulfed his. "You're a powerful big man."

"And I'm Captain Malcolm Reynolds. Good to meet you, Jayne."

The Hessian smiled his disconcertingly bright smile again.

"Is good to meet a man who hides well."

"Now we got a few rules 'round here." Mal said sternly. "We'll keep you fed, clothed and sheltered. Give you a fair share of the profits when we have them. In exchange, you do an honest days work everyday, except Sunday. You treat everyone here with respect. All right?"

"Ja, this I can do." Jayne looked around the spread. "You do haf the lady's things?"

"Maybe." Mal shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"Mal?" Kaylee's shaky voice came from the doorway. "Do I need to shoot him?"

"I told you to stay in the house." He turned towards her. She was holding his musket and though her hands trembled, it looked like she was prepared to fire. "Put that thing down. This is our new hired hand. Jayne Cobbler, this here is my wife, Mrs. Kaylee Reynolds."

"Gutentag, Frau Reynolds." Jayne smiled at her, executing a sketchy bow.

"Hello." Kaylee lowered the musket slowly. "I'm confused."

"Me too." Zach said, laughing. "But I reckon will figure it all out. How about we find a place to settle our new man."

They decided on the third floor bedroom next to Zach's. Jayne didn't own anything, but what he was wearing and a change of shirt in his small saddlebag. The other two mercenaries hadn't trusted him with anything else lest he take it into his head to run off. He sat down on the small cot which creaked alarmingly under his bulk. Kaylee was still fluttering about the room, laying out clean sheets and shaking dust free wherever it had dared settled since her last pass through the rooms. Zach and Mal were out back, bedding down the horses for the night.

"We're gonna have to get a bigger bed for you." Kaylee commented. "Don't think that one was made for a tall man."

"That vould be good." He agreed, watching her closely. "You think zey vill let me stay?"

"Why wouldn't they?" Kaylee stopped her fussing to stare at him. "They offered you a job and they meant it."

"It vas a trick." Jayne shrugged. "I follow zem for many months. Zey think quick. Me, I am slow. They offer me job, I take. Now I haf time to think and I think maybe zey offer me this to distract me. I am soldier, kill many Americans."

"You just did what you had to, to survive." She said firmly. "Just do a good job and I'm sure everything will be fine."

"In Hesse, I haf family. Zey do not know I live. I vish to send them news." He said slowly.

"Oh! That's easy. We can notify the postmaster and he'll get it sent to Boston to go out with the next ship." She cocked her head. "Can you write?"

"In my own Deutshe, a little. Enough."

"Dutch? I thought you were from Germany?"

Jayne's laughter was surprisingly pleasant and hearty. "Nien, little frau, Deutshe is the way we say our language."

"Oh! Well, fancy that! Ask the Captain for paper tomorrow and we can post it by the end of the week." She seemed pleased with this ready solution. "Sleep well, Mr. Cobbler."

When Mal had finally come to bed for the night, he found his wife still wide awake.

"Something wrong?"

"Not really." She smoothed her hand over the blanket. "I just can't help, but think how awful it is for him. So far away from home, forced to fight."

"I wouldn't worry about that one." Mal snorted. "He's a hard man. I doubt he was conscripted for stealing a loaf of bread."

"You are planning on keeping him?"

"He's not a cat or a dog, girl." Mal got into bed. "I'll employ him as long as he minds his manners."

"And you won't treat him bad because he fought against you in the war?"

"It's tempting, but men like Cobbler aren't who make the decisions. He didn't have much choice."

"Good." Kaylee rested her head on his shoulder. "I think he's sort of sad, underneath all that muscle and dirt."

"Don't go getting a soft spot for him." Mal warned. "I doubt he'll pay you back in kind."

"Yes, sir."

In the morning, Mal woke up late and had to stumble about getting dressed. He'd wanted to rise with Kaylee. Make sure the new man didn't give her any trouble while the household was asleep. He went as fast as he could, cursing his still stiff leg. He could hear raucous noises coming from the kitchen and hurried his pace, practically throwing himself into the kitchen.

Kaylee was watching Jayne with a bemused look as the Hessian carefully peeled a potato in a long continuous spiral.

"Very serious business!" Jayne was scolding her. "A chopping knife is no good for peeling! You can get bad cut."

"I don't have any other knives." She explained. "I keep it sharp as I can. How do you keep the peel so perfect like that?"

"Much practice." He finished and the pretty spiral fell to the chopping board. "War is mostly sitting. Waiting. Very boring."

"That's true enough." Mal said, sitting down at the table.

"Husband!" Kaylee started. "I didn't hear you come in. Here, your coffee is ready." She pressed a hot mug into his hand.

"Your wife has bad tools." Jayne sat down a the table without so much as by-your-leave.

"That's what we can afford right now." Mal said calmly. "Unless you got any extra money on you."

"Nien." Jayne frowned. "But I haf knives. I can gif her one."

"How many?" Mal looked him over, trying to evaluate all the places a sharp blade might be hidden.

"Enough to gif one and still haf."

There was a long minute of silence until Mal reluctantly nodded.

"That'd be much appreciated."

Zach came down then and their talk turned to the practical. They put Jayne to work at chopping and hauling lumber while they cleared out the rotten boards in the stables. They kept a close eye on him. He grumbled and complained in German, but he worked even through the hottest part of the day without tiring. At night, he would ate ravenously at the table. Kaylee started making nearly twice the amount of food to satisfy his stomach. When Zach and Mal retreated to the study, Jayne would head out into the night. The first time, Mal had stopped him.

"Don't go heading into town." He warned him. "They won't take to kindly to you there."

"Why is dat?"

"Reckon they still remember the war and they might not be so tolerant as us here."

"I vill not go there then." And he melted away into the night. He could be stealthy for such a bulky man.

The next morning, there'd been four neatly butchered rabbits hung on a string at the front door. The morning after that an entire deer that had apparently been taken down with only a knife and strength, its meat already neatly butchered. With Jayne to fill their larders they'd have smoked meat to last them the rest of the winter.


	3. Chapter 3

"No spring nor summer Beauty hath such grace/ As I have seen in one autumnall face." - Elegy IX:The Autumnal, John Donne

"Now remember, if we ain't back in three days-"

"Then you may not be coming back and I should tell any nosy authorities that I didn't know my husband was a lying scoundrel." Kaylee smiled at him. "You've told me. You'll be back."

"You sure you'll be all right here with just Cobbler?"

"Of course, I'm sure. Jayne promised to teach me how to clean a deer carcass."

"Well...guess that's an important skill." Mal coughed, trying not to picture a gleeful Kaylee, elbow deep in blood.

"It is. Now get on the road. Sooner you leave the sooner you'll be back." She gave him a shove towards the door.

"Ain't that a fine goodbye from my wife." He muttered, headed out the door. Zach passed him, headed towards the kitchen.

"Wagon's all settled, sir." Zach told him. "Just forgot my coat in the kitchen."

Mal didn't remember seeing anyone's coat in the kitchen and turned around to say so when he was struck by a very pretty tableau. Zach had wrapped an arm around Kaylee's shoulder and the girl was resting her head on his shoulder. Zach was whispering something in her ear and they both looked quite content. Discretion being the better part of valor, Mal slipped away. He walked slowly out the wagon, sliding onto the driver's bench. A minute later, Zach sat down next to him.

"Do you love her?" He asked, surprising himself.

"I do." Zach replied calmly. "She's clever and kind. Man could live a long time looking for someone like her and not find them."

"Yes, a man could." Mal bit out.

"Is there a problem, sir?"

"No." Sighing, Mal turned to the horses, starting them on an easy walk up the hill. "She's a wife in name only as you well know. But it's twice as important that you don't go blowing your cover now. I don't want her doing something stupid if you get caught out."

"I know the dangers and so does she. But it's better to have love for a little while than to sit and worry on it and never get it." The calm impeccable voice that had gotten Mal through more than one bloody battle didn't waver or sound particularly passionate. Yet, Mal believed him.

"Does Cobbler know?"

"The big lump?" Zach snorted. "He don't know anything that isn't explained to him slowly and using very little words."

"Don't go underestimating him. Just because he doesn't speak English well doesn't mean he's an idiot."

"Maybe not, but I doubt he knows. We've been careful."

"Well, now that I know for sure what's going on, if'n you want a night to yourselves..." His cheeks flushed and he had to look away.

"That's nice to offer. I'll think on it."

They spent the rest of the afternoon and much of the next day in a silence that grew more comfortable. They were used to traveling together and neither was much for idle chatter. By the next sunset, they were rolling into another river town, not so different than the one they'd just left behind. Except this one was cluttered with people, horses and a thousand different kinds of goods. They pulled the wagon into a field that someone had cordoned off for the purpose.

"Should we just leave it?" Zach frowned at the wagon.

"Why not? Nothing in it yet, but our dinner and clothes. If someone's hard up enough to steal that, let 'em have it."

Getting out the bale of hay they'd purchased before leaving, Mal set up Achilles and Thunder for the evening while Zach grabbed up the few jugs of early cider they'd brought to trade with. They pressed into the crowd headed towards the main thoroughfare, keeping a weather eye out for horse stalls. Occasionally, they'd stop and talk to this or that stall owner. Early on they traded in one cider jug for a dozen yards of a thick wool fabric. The wool would go to Kaylee who'd promised warm winter coats lined with rabbit fur. Another jug went in for a thick packet of salt and carrot seeds for the kitchen garden.

It looked like there might be only a few low grade horses for sale, farm animals mostly, until they got almost to the end of the fair. There were a dozen beautiful, sleek and tall animals set up like princes of the realm in a roomy semi-circle. The crown jewel of the bunch was a beautiful gray mare with a long graceful neck.

"Thoroughbreds." Mal whistled.

"Byerly Turk line, they are." A small, thick man waddled out from behind one of the horses to regard them. "And I'm asking top price for them."

"Of course." Starting forward, Mal frowned when the man's pudgy fingers landed on his chest.

"I'll not be having some farmer scoop them up for a high priced field animal. You want a draft animal, go looking somewhere else."

"I'm looking for a fine riding horse." Mal said slowly. "Remove your hand from me, sir."

"You don't have the coin." The man clucked though he did remove his hand. "So do me the favor of not wasting my time."

"You're lucky I don't have the time to challenge you to a duel, sir." Smoothing the line of his coat, Mal turned on his heel. "Good day to you."

Zach followed his lead and they started back into the crowd.

"Wait!" A cry followed them. "A moment please, good sirs."

"What now?" Mal grumbled, turning. "Change your mind, little man?"

But it wasn't the fat salesman. This man was thin, painfully so and his clothes were mere rags, but he had a shock of dirty blond hair that caught the lingering sun and his eyes were a piercing blue.

"I'm sorry for him." His voice rattled Mal. It carried an Irish burr, thick and musical. "My master thinks too much of himself. If you'd like to see the horses, come back tonight. He won't mind the place after sundown."

"And who are you?" Zach asked, suspicious. "To be giving us free looks?"

"Just a servant, sir. Mr. Hoban Washburne at your service." He sketched a loose limbed bow. "I cannae stay to chat. The horses are worth the wait if you'll come."

"We'll be there." Someone said and it took a minute for Mal to realize it was him. The servant nodded once than vanished into the crowd.

"I don't like it, sir."

"What's not to like? We get to see the horses, stake out the place and maybe rip off one hell of an asshole."

"How do we know that he didn't order his servant after us? It just smells off."

"Can't hurt to show up."

"Can't hurt?" Zach's eyes narrowed. "That's not the paranoid officer I've come to know and tolerate."

"That's because I'm not an officer anymore. I'm just a man looking for a horse."

"A horse." Zach repeated, watching Mal watch the retreating servant. "Of course."

Walking leisurely through the crowds, they found no other horse dealers with promising wares. They traded the last of their cider for a few promising pumpkin plants. When the last of the sun slipped away, they walked quietly back to the fat man's stall. The horses were as fine as Mal remembered. Without the fat man in sight, Mal walked up to the gray mare and stroked her nose. Zach stood guard at the stall entrance, keeping an eye out for trouble.

"Hi there, girl. Ain't you a pretty thing?"

She nickered quietly, but bent quite docilely to his hand. He could imagine a colt of her blood and Achilles or even with Jayne's black brute Gauner. It would be a good start to a quality line of horses. Something people would pay through the nose to have.

"Ai, she's a beauty." Mr. Washburne slipped from behind the stall.

"I'm sure she's got a lineage as long as my arm." Mal said, inspecting her teeth.

"That she does." The Irishman smiled. "And a good temperament and smart as anything, isn't that right now?"

The horse nickered again.

"Smart?" Zach asked, breaking his silent vigil at the gate.

"Just look at this. C'mon my girl, how old are yah?" He coached. Her delicate front hoof lifted and knocked on the ground four times.

"Party tricks." Scoffed Zach. "Any fool can teach a horse to do it."

"Oh? And what about this then?" Washburne looked into the horse's eyes. "Tell me lass, who's the cleverest horse trainer in all of Ireland?"

The mare poked Washburne in the shoulder with her nose. Mal laughed.

"That's a neat trick. And even if you did teach it to her, she remembers without any reward in the offing." Mal checked her legs. "Solid body, good mind, can't ask for much more. What's her name?"

"Well, her papers say Furious Fire sired by Gorgeous Gain, but I just call her Firefly."

"Firefly." Mal repeated. The horse turned her head to regard him with one soft brown eye and it seemed for a moment that she winked at him.

There were a lot of things Mal had lost in the war. Some were intangible like pride and religion, others were countable like boots and friends. He'd promised himself that once the war was over he'd keep both kinds of things closer to him and guard them fiercely. This horse was undoubtedly one of those things.

"She's yer horse." Washburne said at his elbow. "Ain't ye lass?"

Firefly lay her head on Mal's shoulder looking quite content.

"What is he asking for her?" Zach came up behind Mal, looking suspiciously at the mare.

"My master was right about one thing. Probably more than you've got." Said Washburne. "I'll help you steal her on the condition that you take me as well."

"What makes you think we'd steal her?" Snapped Zach. "And that'd we'd need your help to do it?"

"You'll steal her because to do otherwise would be a great disservice to your master here and to the horse. And you don't need me help, but it cannae hurt. Besides, if you leave me behind, it'll be taken out of my hide."

"What do we care about your hide?" Zach stared at him. "Especially when you can just hie off to the next farm and get work there. Plenty of places are aching for menfolk."

"I'm indentured. Another five years at least." Washburne stared right back at him, grinning. "I've run off twice and been beat near to death for it, so no, I don't think I'll be lookin' for work elsewhere again."

"So we should steal a horse and a man what owes hard time?"

It was a good question, a good logical question. Mal looked at the scruffy Irishman, one hand still stroking Firefly's neck. Even in the dark, his blue eyes were bright. He was facing Zach calmly, smiling even, which was a feat not duplicated by many. Not to mention, Mal didn't much hold with indenturing people. They promised them the world to make a trip around the world than treated those that survived the journey like slaves.

"If we're already taking the horse, we might as well take ourselves the groom what trained her." Mal said firmly.

"Captain?" Turning, Zach pinned him with the glare formally focused on Mr. Washburne.

"If both the horse and the groom disappear, everyone'll assume that one stole the other." Mal mused. "An Irishman on a fine horse like this would be an easy thing to find and they'd reckon him heading out towards Boston to get lost in the crowd."

"It would be a good cover." Zach conceded reluctantly.

"If I ride out on this little lady now, while it's still dark, no one will look at us twice."

"If I can be a help, I know for a fact that my girl here loves to roll in the mud and I did see a mighty fine glut of it on the ride in. Bet my master himself wouldn't recognize her. " The Irishman grinned. "Let me get you a saddle."

To add to his list of virtues, Washburne was fast. He had Firefly saddled and ready in record time. Using his good leg as leverage, Mal managed to mount without help and headed off towards the praised muddy field. It proved ample and Firefly's pretty grey coat was soon a mottled brown. She looked thrilled and carried Mal happily onwards until the agreed upon meet point. Late that evening, the wagon caught up with him. Zach was sitting on the riding board.

"What happened to the kid?" Mal asked. "Did you eat him?"

"M'not a child, thanks very much." A pile of rags groused. "You're friend here decided it would be better if I wasn't seen."

"Or heard." Zach amended, rolling his eyes. "God save us from the Irish tongues which wag without ceasing."

"I'll have you know the Irish are blessed with the gift of gab and it isn't our fault of if beardless Spanish lads cannae see the laugh in it."

"You're not graced with an overabundance of hair yourself."

"I happen to be a fair haired lad, what's your excuse?"

"Oh, shut up and do your hay bale impression. Who knows who we'll meet on the road?"

Washbourne wisely, went silent, but Mal was not so circumspect and had to cover his laughter with coughs. The entire journey home continued much on the same theme and by the end, they were all three greatly relieved back to the farm.

"It's a beauty." The Irishman stretched leaping down from the wagon to pluck and apple. "Are yah sure you donnae mind me working here? Me being a wanted man and all."

"We've some experience with it." Mal shrugged.

"Husband!" Kaylee's happy yell startled them all as she came barreling up the hill. "You're back."

"That's your wife?" Washburne asked incredulously.

"Something wrong with that?" Zach asked, teeth gritted.

"Nothing, only I didn't realize that they were expecting. It'll be nice to have a bairn about the place."

"If it lives."

"Grim, Spanish, most grim."

"Realistic. My mother bore five children and I'm the only one still standing."

And then Kaylee was upon them, engulfing first Mal and then Zach in a hug. She stopped short of Washburne, beaming.

"Who's this?" She asked.

"Oh, just a horse trainer we picked up with the horse." Mal said with a smile. "His name is Hoban Washburne, Mr. Washburne, this is my wife Mrs. Kaylee Reynolds."

"Pleasure is mine." The Irishman bowed and kissed her hand. "This is a lovely place you have, m'am and a right good man of a husband."

"I think so." Kaylee looked charmed and Zach's face grew darker. "Walk with me and I'll show you what there is to see. Oh!" She laughed. "I nearly forgot, we've another new comer. She just arrived a few minutes ago. Says she's interested in boarding here for a time."

"I'll talk to her." Mal sighed wearily. "And here I was thinking I might get a rest. Go on and give him the tour, but tell Jayne to take the horses to the stable and bed them down for the night first."

"Can do." Kaylee seized hold of their newest employee and dragged him off into the orchard.

"You can bring the boil down to a low simmer." Mal said quietly.

"Sir?"

"Oh, never mind. Only I think Kaylee has her hands full between the two us and I wouldn't go borrowing trouble."

They walked down to the main house. There was a fine looking carriage sitting in front. It was empty except for a teak trunk strapped to the roof.

"Looks like we might have attracted ourselves someone of decent breeding." Mal whistled low and pushed in the front door. "Hope she don't mind a bit of dirt on her skirts."

"I find that dirt sometimes adds character." A cultured female voice floated out from the sitting room. Mal had turned it over to Kaylee to do as she liked. So far that hadn't meant much except for dusting off his mother's old fashioned things. She preferred to sit with them in the study.

Perched delicately atop one overstuffed chair was one fine looking woman. So fine that both Mal and Zach dropped in their tracks to sketch out bows with their half-remembered manners.

"I'm sorry, m'am." Mal brushed off some of the road's dust off his shirt. "We've only just got back from a long ride out. I'm Captain Reynolds and this is Zach, my partner."

"A pleasure." She tilted her head slightly. "I'm Lady Inara Serra. Your lovely wife told me that we might find a place to stay here for a time."

"We?"

"Yes, I've a servant.. more a friend really." She sighed, imperceptibly. "I'm afraid that I'm a complicated guest, Captain."

"How so?"

"My husband and I were traveling here to look in on some of his properties. With the war, he hadn't felt it was safe in some time." There was a gentle lilt to her accent, something foreign, Italian, maybe? "The passing was hard on him and he fell sick and died days before we reached land."

"I'm real sorry to hear that."

She gave a small elegant shrug.

"Thank you. He will be missed. When I arrived, I found that news of our marriage had not reached the investors here. Without proper evidence, they refused to believe me. I was unable to take up lodgings as I expected. Letters will arrive in a few months to update the locals, but in the meantime I need a place to stay and regroup."

"Well that sounds a mite annoying for you, but I'm not sure how that makes you a complicated guest."

Zach let out a small snort behind him, making his feelings known about the matter. Zach never did like anyone with a title.

"I have not told you the complicated part yet." She smiled and her teeth were impossibly perfect pearls. "While news of my marriage may not have spread here, my reputation does precede me. I am something of a notorious woman back home. I am widowed a second time, you see and between husbands, I was a courtesan."

"A courtesan." Mal's mouth felt suddenly dry. "And do you plan to return to your business while you're staying with us?"

"It would be helpful." She said with complete unconcern which was betrayed by the tightening of her fingers on the chair's cheery fabric.

"Can you be discreet about it? I don't want none of this reflecting poorly on Mrs. Reynolds." He said firmly. "The rest of us are a disreputable lot, but she's still looked on favorably in town by most."

"I am a courtesan." Her posture stiffened. "I am the soul of discretion."

"All right, all right, don't go ruffling your feathers over it. What about this man of yours, what's he like?"

"You can talk to him yourself and find out. Your wife fixed him up with some lunch in the kitchen."

"What about you, you hungry?"

There was a brief flash in her eyes and Mal knew she was starving. Looking past her lovely face, he could see that her dress, while very fine, had been worn for too long. They'd probably been practically chased out of the city and most like hadn't had time to eat.

"No, thank you."

"Look, Lady Serra, none of us stand ceremony here." Zach broke in. "We share meals and they aren't complicated. You're welcome to your share as part of the fee to stay here, but we can't afford to set up pretty five course meals in the dining room."

"Oh." The proud stiff posture wilted a little and her face softened some. "In that case, I would love lunch if there's any left."

"C'mon, we can talk price over lunch."

It was no surprise to Zach or Mal that she glided rather than walked. The Lady Serra didn't seem to possess feet. When they entered the kitchen, there was indeed already an occupant at the table. It was an older gentleman with more gray than black in his hair and he appeared to be at least half African.

"Captain Reynolds, Zach, this is my friend Pastor Derrial Book."

"Nice to meet you, Pastor." Mal shook the calloused hand. "Seem like a bit of an odd couple, if you don't mind me saying."

"The Lady was kind enough to extract me from a rather ugly situation." Book smiled in her direction in an almost paternal way. "We've looked after each other ever since."

"Well, ain't that fine?" Zach said, deciding right off that she liked the Pastor and took the seat at his other side. "What are you a Pastor of?"

"Oh, I suppose you might call me Baptist. Mostly though I'm just bringing people to God. Especially my people, who so often wish to follow him, but are denied by less...sympathetic churches."

"Then I'll tell you the same thing I told Lady Serra here." Mal said as he put together a hearty turkey sandwich for himself and Inara. "Be discreet. Folk around here may not own slaves, but that don't disagree with keeping them in general. Don't want any problems with anybody."

"I'll be careful. I take it that means we can stay?"

"Sure, long as your money is as good as your intentions."

They haggled over lunch and Mal watched as Inara took careful bites of her food until it was gone, then refilled her plate and the pastor's. Kaylee floated in and poured lemonade for all of them before puttering back out to put clean linens on the bed of the first guest house. A few minutes after that Washburne trundled up the back stairs.

"Hello m'am." He grinned at Inara and then looked seriously at Mal. "The horses are settled. That German giant of yours is only good for spooking them. I'd like to take over minding them, if that's all right?"

"It's what I had in mind anyway." Mal admitted. "Jayne's better at killing animals than taking care of them, except for that monster Gauner."

"Owner like horse. Thanks kindly again." Washburne dipped his head, cheeks flushed. "Well, I'll muck out the stalls for those carriage horses and get them settled next. "

"Fine by me. Dinner's at sunset, Washburne."

"I won't be forgetting a meal, no doubt. And call me Wash, the rest it's a bit of a mouthful, I think." With a final smile, the Irishman ducked out the door. For a long minute, Mal watched him leave.

"Captain?" The Lady's cultured voice drew him back.

"Sorry. Business." He explained.

But Zach was looking hard at him and he knew that he was in for a long conversation later.


	4. Chapter 4

"Like brooms of steel/ The Snow and Wind" Like brooms of steel (1252), Emily Dickinson

"Well that should do her for the night." Wash patted the barn door, satisfied. "And into tomorrow if the snow comes like I think it will."

"It smells like a heavy snow." Jayne agreed. "In Hesse, we would gather all tight round the fire and tell stories."

"We don't get as much snow in Ireland, but we do get bitter nights. Spent them the same way."

"What do you think the Lady is up to?" The German's eyes strayed over to the guest houses where a candle flickered in one window.

"Who knows? She's bundled up for the storm at least. I took her enough food to last the week in case they get snowed in."

"She vill not stay in the house?"

"She likes her independence." Wash shrugged. "Or at least, she likes it better than the likes of us."

Mal had a head start on them heading towards the house, but they easily caught up. The cold was bothering his leg and it showed.

"Where's the shadow?" Jayne asked.

"Zach's already up at the house and don't you go starting on him with that again. You know he nearly killed you last time."

"Jayne would have been fine if he knew how to duck!" Wash said with a laugh.

"Runt." Jayne bit off.

"Oaf."

"Come quick!" Zach charged out of the house, his usually neat ponytail in a frazzle. "It's Kaylee! She's having the baby!"

"Now?" Mal blinked, dumbfounded.

"Yes, now! How much longer would you like her to wait!" Zach ran to him and grabbed his hand, practically dragging him along. "She's asking for you."

"What good am I going to do? Aren't I supposed to wait outside?"

The pressure on his hand increased painfully.

"She's asking for you and I don't care what the hell anyone else says, you will be there." Zach paused. "Sir."

Kaylee was prone on the bed, out of breath and red faced. Otherwise, she was her cheery self, brightening further when Mal stumbled in, Wash and Jayne on his heels.

"Hello." She reached out for Mal's hand and he gave it to her. Zach went to her other side, entangling their fingers together.

"Are you sure you want to do this alone, girl? We can still get the midwife in." Mal said quietly. "Us men only birthed horses before, no babies."

"We agreed to this." Kaylee reminded him. They had discussed it at great length. Everyone could count on their fingers and they were only six months out from their wedding day. If the baby was born without witnesses and wasn't seen until Spring, the birth date could be changed to whatever they liked. "Besides, I'd rather be with my family."

"Even Jayne?" Zach asked warily.

"Even Jayne." She said with finality, making the German beam. "Though I think I want him closer to my head than the other end."

"I vould not look." The huge man assured her, inching up closer to where Mal clutched her hand.

"You can handle this, Irish?" Zach turned on Wash, who was cleaning his hands in a basin.

"I told you before, I'm no midwife. I've only dealt in farm animals before. You want reassurance, get a midwife."

"Oh my." Kaylee's grip tightened on Zach and Mal's hand. It was harder than Mal would have credited her for.

"I...uh...I guess I should check to see what's going on." Wash looked up at Kaylee's face. "You are sure about this?"

"I trust you." She smiled wearily at him as the contraction faded.

Gingerly, Wash lifted the sheet and went pale as a sheet.

"I'm gonna have to..." He waggled his fingers and Kaylee nodded, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling. "Uh...well, I reckon you're moving along."

"Can I get you anything, honey?" Zach asked, stroking her forehead.

"No...well maybe some water."

"I vill get this." Jayne trundled off, looking pleased to contribute.

The first hour was quiet. Kaylee sipped water and periodically stiffened in pain. They talked in low voices about everyday things. The last of the sunlight faded. Jayne lit a battalion of candles which threw crazed shadows around the room whenever Kaylee shifted uneasily. Then contractions seemed to speed up all at once. They came with frightening rapidity, tossing Kaylee's body into hideous contortions. Her grip tightened impossibly hard. She didn't scream or moan, instead her teeth were gritted hard and her eyes stayed firmly closed.

"You can holler if you want." Zach assured her in a brief respite. "We don't mind."

"Hollering don't help the pain any." Kaylee snapped. "Won't have my baby's first memory be of her mother screaming down the house."

"You are strong voman." Gingerly, watching the others in case he was reprimanded, Jayne rested one hand on her stomach. He stroked her belly in slowly circles. Zach looked about to say something until Kaylee let out a relieved sigh. "Very hard to take pain like this."

"The storm coming in looks to do the hollering for you, in any case." Mal said in the ensuing silence. The wind was beating on the windows, howling and clawing at the house.

"Good." Kaylee said faintly. "I like snow."

Another contraction took her then and didn't let go.

"Wash." Zach clearly wanted to start yelling, but the atmosphere had become thick with quiet.

"I see the head." He reported, looking more than a little queasy.

"What can we do?"

"Keep on what you've been doing." Wash swallowed hard. "Keep calm. The roughest part is coming."

Zach looked worriedly at Kaylee, who seemed not to hear. Her eyes were focused on something impossibly distant, all her attention focused somewhere none of them could reach. Then, as if reporting back information she had gleaned from God himself, Kaylee said quietly:

"I'm going to push now."

Then she took a deep breath that seemed to swallow whatever air was left in the room and pushed. And then she did it again. And again. Wash would fill the silence between breaths with status reports until it seemed that room heaved in waves. The heat from the candles and too many bodies in one small room intensified impossibly. They were all sweating along with her. Mal's hand grew slippery in her grasp. Jayne's soothing rubs were leaving trails on her night clothes. None of them moved to crack a window. They were all transfixed.

A minute, an hour, a day, a decade later Kaylee gave a final wracking spasm and Wash cried out gratefully.

"It's a girl!"

Mal staggered to his feet, surprised at how stiff he had gotten and reached for his pocket knife, neatly severing the umbilical cord. The baby was bloody and crying. Zach took possession and gently washed her clean as Kaylee heaved out the afterbirth.

"A healthy babe." Jayne's voice thundered, breaking the last of the silence.

"Please...." Kaylee held out her arms weakly until Zach settled the cleaned up mite into her arms.

"What are we calling her, then?" Mal asked.

"Something pretty." Kaylee said dreamily. "What did you call those spices, Zach? The ones your mother always wanted."

"Paprika?"

"No...the other..."

"Saffron?"

"Yes." Kaylee kissed the baby's bald head. "Saffron. Saffron Reynolds."

Then she slipped into a heavy sleep, her arms never letting the baby slip. Zach climbed into bed next to her, resting his head on her shoulder.

"Storm's turning uglier." Mal observed. "Let's get the place sealed up properly."

The house had been sealed up properly for weeks for the last bad storm, but Jayne and Wash obediently followed him out of the room and down to the kitchen. Wash went straight to the liquor cabinet, took down the first bottle he could lay hands on. Blindly, he fumbled with the cork before taking a long drink.

"You did good." Mal assured him as soon as the bottle was set down. "Good enough to deserve a glass."

"Sorry." Wash coughed. "But my goal right now is to get very drunk indeed."

"Yes. Me too." Jayne took the abandoned bottle and took a swig himself.

"That's good brandy you two are chugging down like beer." Mal swiped the bottle from Jayne and took his own long drink.

"To Saffron!" Wash said taking down another bottle.

Then they settled down into serious drinking. Come morning, they'd need to rouse themselves to clear a path to the guest houses. Doubtless the Pastor would want to say some blessing over the child's head and Lady Serra would want to coo. The walkways would have to be cleared and the horses fed. Life would have to press on.

Yet now, in the last waning hours of darkness, there was nothing to be done, but drink and celebrate.


	5. Chapter 5

## **Year Two- 1784**

"I am amazed at this spring, this conflagration/Of green fires lit on the soil of the earth, this blaze..." - The Enkindled Spring by D.H. Lawrence

"Aw, hell." Wash threw his cards into the grass. "You're cheating is what."

"I do not cheat." Jayne carefully picked the cards back up and shuffled them neatly. "You are bad at the game. This not my fault."

"Maybe we should play something else." Mal suggested.

"Or take a nap." Zach fell dramatically backward into the grass. The crown of his head just brushed the hem of Kaylee's dress. She was sitting up very straight so Lady Serra could plait her hair. The two were rapidly becoming thick as thieves, giggling behind their hands. Snuggled into a foamy sea of blankets, Saffron had long ago taken up Zach's suggestion and was snoozing in the noonday sun.

The apple trees were just starting to bloom and gave the quiet afternoon the feeling of utopia. Naturally, this could not last.

"You hear hoofbeats?" Zach asked, shooting up from his lazy sprawl.

"Maybe they're just passing by?" Wash asked hopefully, but he inched towards the bassinet, putting himself between the road and the womenfolk.

"Could be the neighbors." Chimed in Kaylee. "They'd be headed home from church right now and Mrs.Smith did say she might need eggs. Her hens aren't layin' so good."

"The Smiths have the oldest horse in God's Kingdom." Mal's leg gave him a bit of trouble as he tried to get off the ground, so he was grateful for Jayne's meaty paw hauling him up though he scowled at him. "Whatever's headed here is no plodder."

"Could be someone dropping the Pastor off." The Lady added in, but she didn't look convinced. His small local flock was poor and he walked between their farms on Sunday mornings.

"There's wheels." Zach cocked his head. "Definitely a carriage, but a small one."

Moments later, the carriage spilled out onto the road in front of them and turned into their drive. It was very tiny, barely holding it's driver and his baggage.

"It's torn up all to hell." Wash said with a low whistle. "Looks like someone's been shooting at it."

"I didn't hear any shots." Zach stepped out onto the drive, effectively blocking the carriage's progress. The driver pulled up on the reigns...too hard. The horse reared back irritably and upset the whole kit and caboodle. The crash shook all the nearby trees.

"Oh!" Kaylee was on her feet before anyone could stop her and running to the overturned carriage. "Are you all right, sir? I think he's hurt!"

"Get back from there, girl!" Mal snapped. "Injured men can still be dangerous."

He approached slowly, aware of Zach dogging his steps. The driver had been wearing a powdered wig and now the starch clung to the blood trickling from his forehead. His arm was bent at an uncomfortable angle. Using the tip of his boot, Mal rolled him over a little.

"Can't be much older than twenty." Zach said quietly. "Looks like it's been a soft life too. Funny, he reminds me of someone...can't put my finger on who."

"That suit alone is worth a bundle, but then why the skittish horse and broken up carriage?" Mal pointed to a cracked wheel. "Looks like even before the shooting this thing was ready for the trash heap. And he don't look like nobody I've ever met."

"Don't stand around staring at him!" Distressed, Kaylee finally pushed past him. "He needs a splint on that arm and someone to bandage up his head wound, not have you judge him while he bleeds to death."

"He's a stranger." Jayne said, still standing at a safe distance.

"So were you!" She shot back and reached down to touch the unconscious man's face. Her hand came away sticky with blood. "Now get him into the house. Dining room table would be best for setting the arm."

"I vill carry him then." Within moments, the driver was settled into Jayne's large arms and borne away into the house. Lady Serra had already scooped up Saffron's bassinet and together the women adjourned into the house.

"What should we do about this, meanwhile?" Circling the carriage, Mal saw a trunk and a few lighter bags.

"Might as well carry them up to one of the empty rooms. Unless he turns out to be a stone cold killer, Kaylee's gonna make him stay until the arm's near healed at least." Said Wash. He was unhooking the still shaking horse. "I'll get this fellow settled for the night."

"Guess he's right." Zach said begrudgingly before leaning down to heft up the trunk. It didn't budge. "Damn. It feels like this thing is full of rocks."

Frowning, Mal reached down to help him and together they managed to get the trunk into the house. "Guess fancy people have more to haul around with them."

They managed to get the bulky thing into the house, but Mal refused to carry it up the stairs: "Until we suss this fellow out."

The fellow was already laid out on the dining room table on top of a tablecloth that had seen better days. Kaylee was at work, washing out his head wound. Jayne was sitting in a corner, carving out a splint.

"It's not a bad cut." Kaylee informed them as soon as they came in. "But he's got a nasty bump. Nothing else seems broke, but the arm."

"Good thing he's already knocked out." Zach rolled up his sleeves. "That'll make the setting easier."

"What is this?" Jayne squinted at the thick scars that circled up Zach's arms. "You get in fight with a bear?"

Zach winced, but the damage was done. He usually kept his clothes neat and covering as much skin as possible. Mal and Kaylee already knew what lay beneath, but that was different.

"Not the time Jayne." Mal took the mostly finished splint from him. "Why don't you hold the boy down, just in case he comes to at a bad moment?"

The boy didn't come to though he let out a faint groan as Zach jerked the bone back into place while Mal held his shoulder. They both knew a bit of field medicine, enough for this anyway. Within minutes, the bone was set as good as they could make it, wrapped up in bandages and splint then hung in a makeshift sling. Between that and the neatly wrapped head wound,he looked a bit too much like a battlefield corpse for Mal's taste.

"We should get him into a bed." He said, turning away.

"Maybe the sofa in the sitting room would better." Zach frowned. "We can check in on him more easily that way."

By the time Pastor Book came home for his supper, he found a young man arranged comfortably on the sitting room sofa, a trunk blocking the staircase and everyone sitting around the crowded kitchen table.

"It appears I've missed something."

Then they were all trying to tell him at once and the meal passed in a lot of speculation, only quieting when occasionally the young man's moans drew Kaylee back to the sitting room. She'd return with a report that he was still unconscious, but looking to wake up at any moment. Eventually the food was gone and chores still had to be seen too. Lady Serra had an appointment that evening and retired to their guest house to prepare. That meant Book was exiled here until well after dark. Kaylee gave him charge of their patient while she tended to Saffron and the dishes.

"You'd best stay asleep, lad." Book said companionably, settling into one of the overstuffed chairs. "You'll be much more interesting that way than awake, I suspect."

The young man slept on, so the Pastor took out his well used Bible and read some of his old favorites out loud as the last of the warm sunlight slipped away. At some point, he must have dozed off because he awoke under a thick blanket and his Bible tucked neatly back in his vest pocket. The moon was well up already and most likely the Lady's client was well gone, but Book found he was reluctant to leave. It was quiet in the big house. Somewhere above him Mal, Kaylee, Saffron, Zach, Jayne and Wash slumbered. Their various nighttime noises trickled down the stairs to him. Though he didn't always approve of their choices, he'd grown to like the jumbled nature of the household. After many years of wandering it felt, just a little, like home.

"You don't know it yet." He told the young man. "But if you were very lucky to land here."

The lad's eyelids flickered as if in a dream. It was a promising bit of motion. Lighting a candle, Book settled in for a late night vigil. It really wouldn't do to have him wake up to darkness in a strange place. It was too dim to read, so he amused himself by trying to remember the whole of an opera he had seen just before departing for America. Eventually, the vague stirrings proved on their promises and the young man's eyes opened. They were blue, Book noticed. Kaylee had guessed them at green.

"Where am I?"

"You're safe. You had a bit of an accident coming down our drive."

"I don't remember." He frowned trying to sit up, then hissing in pain.

"My friends tended to your wounds. You hit your head and broke your arm." Book offered him a hand, helping him ease up into a sitting position. "I'm wasn't there at the time, but they said it was a miracle you didn't crack your skull open. They weren't able to salvage the carriage, but your horse is safe and stabled."

"And my trunk?" His eyes searched the room.

"We took into the house. No one wanted to take it up to the stairs though, so for now it's blocking the staircase. It didn't seemed at all damaged by the fall."

"Oh." He seemed to sag a bit in relief. "I'm Dr. Simon Tam."

"A doctor?" Book smiled. "I apologize only, you look so young."

"My degree is in one of my satchel, if you'd like to check." He looked stiff. "I was rushed through training. I was known to be a good surgeon and they were sorely needed on battle fields. And you?"

"Oh, I'm just a pastor. You can call me Pastor Book. I'm just a guest here, like yourself. Here is Reynold's Stables and Orchards by the way."

"Thank God." The doctor smiled slightly. "This was where I was headed, but I lost control of that demonic animal somewhere down the road."

"So you were intending to come here?"

"Yes." He looked down at his arm. "Now maybe longer than I had originally intended, but it was meant to be just a stop."

"And where are you headed to?"

"Somewhere that needs a doctor. North." His own yawn seemed to surprise him. "I'm in need of a fresh start."

"Well this is a good a place as any to lick your wounds." Book rose creakily from the chair. "For now, maybe you should get some sleep. I'm certain the Captain will want to talk to you in the morning."

The doctor nodded and with a little help, rearranged himself on the sofa. Book covered him the blanket and walked quietly out into the yard to start his short walk back to the guest house. A thin line of smoke and soft orange flame alerted him that he wasn't alone outside. Wash was leaning up against the back door, looking out over the stables.

"Our guest wake up?"

"Yes. He says he's a doctor and that he was headed here to take a room."

"A doctor." Wash took a long suck on his pipe. "That's different. Hope he doesn't have complaints about how we did him up then."

"I'm sure he wouldn't be so ungracious. Was his horse really very wild? He seemed to rather hate the thing."

"Nah, he's not bad. He was just ridden too hard by a bad driver. A few days of good oats and he'll be as sweet as Misty."

"Are you having trouble sleeping, son?"

"A bit." Wash laughed. "It was an eventful sort of day. I just keep seeing that carriage flip over. Reminds you about how fragile life can be. I know you holy men are big on the afterlife, but I ain't intent on getting there anytime soon."

"Neither am I." Book smiled. "God wants us to appreciate the life we've been given. To live it as good and moral people."

"I spent a lot of time in church as a boy. I used to talk to God all time. About every little thing. Me ma used to tell me that I must be driving Jesus to drink the way I went on. Course that just made me carry on more."

"When did you stop?"

"Irritating Ma? Probably haven't right up until this moment. Somewhere just outside of Cork, there's a tiny woman shaking her fist in this general direction."

"I meant when did you stop talking to God?"

"Didn't really." Wash polished the pipe on his vest. "Guess the conversation changed tone a little. Can't say as I feel he's listening most of the time either."

"He's always listening." Book pat him on the arm. "And I don't think He minds hearing a bit of conversation mixed in with prayer."

"Does it bother you? Living in a houseful of godless people?" Asked Wash.

"I wouldn't call any of them godless just because they aren't church-going. Yourself for instance."

"What about the Captain and Zach?"

"They've seen some horrible things and that can throw a man's faith for a loop, but I think they'll come back eventually. They think God's left them, but He never leaves."

"But there's no hope for Jayne, right?" Wash laughed.

"Oh, I think you'd be surprised. Ask him sometime."

"I can't even imagine having that conversation." He shook his head. "I mean, we get along, but he scares me. And don't go telling me some morality tale that I shouldn't judge based on appearances. He's got scary ideas too."

"Everyone has scary ideas. If they didn't, you and I wouldn't be standing out here in the middle of the night."

"Which I really shouldn't be doing at all. Got to be up with the horses and all." Wash pushed off of the wall he'd been leaning on. "Sleep well, Pastor."

"Good night." Book continued on his way, following the dirt path towards the cottage. The Lady's guest must have long departed, but a candle flickered still in her window.

He slipped inside the kitchen area. Kaylee cooked most of their meals, but the stove kept it warm. During his free time, Book wrote his sermons at the table. The cottage did boast two bedrooms, but one was clearly for a married couple and the other for their small children. His bed took up most of the useful space in the tinier room.

"Book?" The Lady's voice floated through her bedroom door.

"It's me." He assured her. It was late and he should have been exhausted, but as Wash said, it had been an interesting day and he had taken that long nap. Perhaps of cup of coffee was in order. He set about preparing a kettle and by the time it was done brewing, the Lady emerged from her bedroom, clothed in a thick and heavily embroidered robe.

"The mystery man woke up briefly. Dr. Simon Tam." He told her. "He was an army surgeon. Says he intended to come here to look for a room and that he can't remember the accident."

"Really? Well, Kaylee will be pleased. I hardly think a surgeon would have come here to kill us all." She settled into a chair. "It'd be nice to have a neighbor. I always feel sorry for the other cottage, it looks so sad and empty."

"I'm sure the Captain will want more to the story before he lets him settle here. I think there's something about this that has him agitated."

"The Captain has a good nose for trouble." Her laughter filled the room, along with the strong scent of coffee as Book poured it into two thick mugs. "What did you make of this doctor?"

"I only spoke with him for a minute or so." He took a long sip of coffee. "I got the impression that something went very wrong for him recently, but you could guess that by the way he arrived. We'll doubtless get the full story in the morning."

"It's a curious place." She bit on her lower lip, something Book found oddly endearing. He liked the glimpses he occasionally got of the woman who remained under the paint and artifice. "Like a lighting rod, bringing all sorts of strange people together."

"Is it the place? I assumed it was the man. He seems to have an unusually large acceptance of the generally unacceptable."

Lady Serra sighed imperceptibly. Then she delicately turned the subject to talk of the garden she was planting outside the cottage. They talked until dawn, retiring to their beds just as the sun was peeking out.

Back at the main house, Kaylee was already in the kitchen doling out buttered toast and eggs to be eaten on the walk to the stables. To her delight, a morning ritual had evolved that as she handed out breakfast, she received a kiss on the cheek. Usually by the end of her pleasant work, she was quite rosy from early morning stubble being brushed over her skin. Little Saffron was also given her due with various tickles and hugs. Usually, the men would thunder out of the house in high spirits.

Today though, there was a tension that she didn't quite like. Everyone kept casting their eyes back to the sitting room.

"I've got half a mind to open that trunk." Mal muttered.

"Don't you dare!" Kaylee swiped at him with a dishrag.

"Could be full of weapons!" He protested. "We don't know thing one about the man."

"Pastor said he woke up for a bit last night." Wash said quietly. Suddenly everyone was starting daggers at him. "I was awake too! Wasn't withholding any information. Said the kid's a doctor, if you can believe it."

"Does he haf a name?" Jayne asked, taking a bit into his bread.

"Course he has a name." Light blue eyes rolled up to the ceiling as Wash tried to recall it. "It was Simon something...Tim?"

"Tam? Was it Tam?" Zach, who hadn't been showing much interest to that point was suddenly all over Wash, hands digging into his shoulder.

"Woah! Yes, it could've been something like that. I don't remember!"

"Something you wanna share with the whole group?" Mal asked, carefully removing Zach's hands off Wash's shirt.

"I knew I recognized him." Setting down his food on the table, Zach ran to the sitting room and leaned over to shake the patient awake.

"Zachery!" Kaylee was already scolding. "The man's got a head injury! What's wrong with you?"

The doctor coughed and slowly came to under the assault.

"Oh." He said quietly when he was fully aware. "Hello, Zoe."

Dimly, Zach heard Jayne ask, "Zoe? Is this a nickname?"

"Tam! What the hell are you doing here?" Zach hissed. "How did you find me? Where's River?"

"It's a long story. If you get off of me and let me sit up, I might be able to tell some of it. Also, if it's not to much trouble, I wouldn't mind some of that bread I smell baking." He coughed again.

In the hallway there was a large cracking noise. Much like someone taking an axe to a chest lock.

"Malcolm Reynolds!" Kaylee was yelling, torn between which of her men to scold first. "What is wrong with you!"

"The bastard is hiding a dead girl in here!"

"River!" Simon launched himself off the coach, staggering dizzily towards the trunk. "Don't touch her!"

"What kind of sick freak are you?" Mal leaned down and laid a hand on her arm. "She's still warm!"

"That's because she's not dead." Simon leaned heavily against the wall. "I'm warning you, take your hand off her now."

"Why?" Mal sneered. "What are you going to do little man?"

"Not me." Simon's eyes darted nervously to the trunk. "Her."

River's eyes snapped open and her hand flashed out, grabbing Mal's wrist hard and bending it backward.

"You are he that walks the crooked path to absolution, mindful only of your own plucked out eyes, how can you see what stands before you? Heal yourself, young man, walk straight or there will be penance more painful than your poor soul can endure." Her voice filled the room, leaving them all gasping.

"Holy hell!" Mal yelped, trying to shake her off.

"I warned you." Simon eased up to the trunk and knelt down, putting a hand on the side of her head. "It's all right, River. You can let him go."

"Simon?" Her death grip on Mal's wrist started to ease. "Where are we? Who is this?"

"We're at the boarding house I told you about." He continued to talk quietly as he helped her slowly out of the trunk.

"Zoe?" She asked hopefully.

"I'm here." Zach hesitated, than opened her arms. River flung herself into them.

"I thought you were dead. Everyone keeps being dead." Cried the young woman. Her long hair streamed over Zach's arms to nearly touch the floor. Kaylee reached out to touch it admiringly than snatched her hand back at the last moment. River seemed not to notice.

"Not dead, yet." Zach agreed. "How'd you find me?"

"The usual way." Simon interrupted, pining Zach with a glare.

"Kaylee." Mal said slowly, starting in on what Zach once called his 'officer voice'.

"Yes?"

"Please put a pot of coffee on. Wash, Jayne, get down to the barn and get started on the horses." He pointed a finger at Simon. "You and that girl are gonna sit down and explain to me what the hell is going on here. Everyone clear?"

The household scattered. Mal rubbed his head with the heel of his hand, before heading into the kitchen. Kaylee was diligently making coffee, while soothing a fussy Saffron. Zach and Simon had settled on chairs. River had settled on Simon. She was curled up in his lap, bare feet resting on one of his thighs, face buried in his neck. Not wholly immune to the poignancy of the scene, Mal settled quietly in the chair and decided against yelling.

"Zach and I've known each other a fair long time." He said instead. "I knew him when Zach was a fresh name and a new set of clothes. We've both spent a lot of time pretending that he didn't have a life before that. I ain't never pried and that's the truth. If your story is gonna fill me in on his past, I reckon that I ought to ask his permission first."

"It's time." Zach said quietly, not looking him in the eyes. "Kaylee best hear it all too. Get it all over at once."

Soon they all had a hot cup of coffee and more buttered bread in hand. Tentatively, Kaylee took the chair on the other side of Zach. He reached out and took her in hand his.

"Eight years ago, I became my brother." His hand may have been on Kaylee's, but his eyes were fixed on Mal's face. "Before that, my name was Zoe and I worked on the Tam family plantation in Virginia. My parents were hired by Sir Alec Tam while he was on vacation in Majorca after my father saved him from nearly drowning. Our family lived on the back lot of the main house. My father oversaw the slaves while my mother acted as a sort of head maid for Lady Tam. She had my brother, Zachery within a few months of arriving. I was born three years later.

"When they finally had children, Lady Tam hired me on to be their nanny. I was just a little bit of a thing myself, but that didn't fuss her any."

"She practically raised us." Simon cut in, smiling wryly. "Mother wasn't interested in the day to day messes of children."

"Maybe." Zach shrugged. "It went that way for years. Then Zachery started getting interested in the local separatist movement. It bothered my parents some, especially with the Tams being such staunch loyalists, but they let him go to meetings provided he was quiet about it. Eventually, my father went along with him to see what the fuss was about. Then they both got very quiet, sneaking away at night and coming home smelling like gun powder. Lord Tam only got more and more interested in protecting the crown from the 'rabble'. That's when River here had her first episode."

"She's got epilepsy." Simon said quietly, rubbing River's back. "It's a strange case though."

"Strange is a word for it." Zach snorted. "After she has one of her fits, she starts babbling prophecy."

"Really now." Mal raised an eyebrow and glanced River, who seemed to be curling even tighter on herself.

"She's spooky right." Zach said quietly. "But she don't remember once it's passed over her. You can imagine that it didn't endear her to the neighbors. She was exorcised a few times, but that didn't work none."

"Because she's not possessed." Simon rolled his eyes. "I think her seizures do something to her mind, allow her to tap into something the rest of us can't access."

"I never thought she had any demon in her." Zach agreed. "Even when she was throwing a tantrum. But not everyone agreed. There was one man, in particular. A Deacon. Must've had a name, but we all just called him The Deacon. He figured that River just needed to be settled down some. Get herself a husband. Course at this time, she was only ten or eleven. The Tams liked him though, figured he was a piece of merry ole England and it'd be nice to keep him in the family. They promised River to him for when she was old enough. He didn't like that answer, wanted her right away, but he knew he couldn't get at the Tams directly. Them being loyalists and all. So instead, they came after my family."

"River and I tried to help." Simon frowned. "But there wasn't much we could do."

"You did plenty." Zach said firmly. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, keeping his eyes firmly on Mal. "The Deacon turned in the entire local militia for treason. My father and brother were condemned as traitors along with few other poorer members. They were hung in the village square as a public statement. That night, a mob of men stormed our little cottage. They tied my wrists together and hung me from the rafters to watch as they killed my mother. I don't rightly remember what happened next, but I worked my way loose from the ropes and started beating someone with my bare hands. I would have kept going to, if Simon here hadn't showed up."

"I just heard a noise." Simon stroked River's hair. "Grabbed my father's musket and ran outside. It was dark and I guess they thought I was my father because the mob disappeared in a matter of seconds. Except for the man Zoe was hitting. He was unconscious by then."

"And the clever bugger talked me down." Zach laughed, hollowly. "Got me some water, settled me down. I knew I couldn't stay on. They'd wanted me good and dead thanks to the Deacon. My family as a warning to the Tams that he got his way about things. Simon was the one who suggested I take what was left of Zach's things and disappear. It was the summer of '75 and the war was getting warmed up. The Captain found me wandering around the forest and recruited me right there."

"You were a sorry silent scarp of kid." Mal said quietly. "Guess now I know why."

"Anyway, you know the rest." Zach finally looked away, squeezing Kaylee's hand. "I don't know what happened there since."

"That's my part then." Simon looked up to the ceiling, collecting his memories. "My father was furious about what happened to Zoe's mother. He was too much of a loyalist to get upset over her father and brother, but to kill a defenseless woman? He tried to figure out who was responsible and even went so far as to have a serious discussion with the Deacon about moral corruption in the village. Of course, nothing came of it. The Deacon even convinced him not to look for Zoe.

"It was quiet for a while. We got a new nanny and some tutors, who tried to beat River's episodes out of her. I spent most of my free time finding ways to help her cover them up. Dimly, we were aware that there was a war going on. Our parents worked hard to make sure we didn't know much about it. Even when it became clear that we were on the losing side, Father didn't say anything. Quietly, he switched sides. Not in his heart, I'm sure, but in his investments and outside affairs. There's an estate back in England that we could have returned to, but it didn't make money the way the plantation did. Purely practically our father. When I was old enough, I was sent along to medical school. They were pushing us through to graduation to get more doctors on the field."

"You can't be more than eighteen!" Mal protested. "And they made you a doctor?"

"I am old enough to amputate a man's leg without killing him." Simon snapped. "And certainly older than eighteen. I worked waist deep in blood for two years!"

"Then the war ended and I turned eighteen." River interjected quietly which seemed to instantly kill Simon's anger.

"Yes." Simon rested his forehead against hers briefly. "Old enough to get married without raising any eyebrows. I came home to find preparations underway. My mother was ecstatic. The Deacon had received word that he was to return to England with his new bride to become Archbishop. It was quite an honor."

"Oh!" Kaylee protested. "You didn't let River marry him, did you?"

"There wasn't anything I could do to stop it. I couldn't find a time to be alone with River to tell her what I'd planned."

"He stole me on my wedding night." River assured Kaylee. "The Deacon didn't get to touch me."

"No, he didn't." Simon smiled, kissing the top of her head. "I spiked his drink that night and he slept on. I had to sedate River for the journey so she would stay quiet in the trunk."

"And you came looking for me?" Zach interjected.

"No, I already knew where you were. I had for years." Simon smiled at Zach. "I wanted to make sure you were safe. When I went to Pennsylvania to study medicine, I made it a point of getting my hands on the lists for every regiment available. Once I found you regiment, I followed the lists of the dead. You were never on them. When things started to calm down, I asked the soldiers I worked with if they knew you. Eventually they led me to Captain Reynolds and this fine piece of land."

"So you decided to endanger all of us by taking a missing bride from a prestigious man of the church to my home?" Mal asked, casually.

"I wanted to see Zoe." River answered. "Then go somewhere far away where he can't find us. Maybe even to the moon."

"How come your carriage looks like it went through war?" Kaylee asked.

"Because it did. It was one of our field ambulances. I was never very good at driving it." Admitted Simon. "But it was the only thing I could think to take that wouldn't be stealing."

"No, course. Stealing is wrong." Mal said virtuously. "'Specially when you're already on the run with your sister."

"Exactly. We really did just want to see how you were, then move on. I'm sorry if we troubled you."

"So you're gonna run to Canada?" Dubious, Kaylee looked the pair over. "Sounds like this Deacon is fair powerful and he must want River awfully bad if he's willing to wait on her a decade. Not sure Canada is far enough."

"No where is far enough." Zach agreed. "I'll have to go with you. Eventually it'll come down to a fight and neither of you are fit for that."

"You can't!" Kaylee protested. "What'll we do here without you?"

"You'll get along all right. And it wouldn't be permanent. Just until we can take care of this."

"Man like the Deacon can play cat and mouse for years." Mal speculated. "Probably send agents until you've got a pile of bodies behind you and a wall in front of you."

"I'm going." Zach said firmly. "They saved my life, I can't just let 'em die because the odds are bad."

"Fine." Mal grimaced. "We'll leave tomorrow then."

"We? No we, sir. Just me and them."

"So you're not a man of your word anymore?" Mal clucked his tongue. "Reckon we had a deal that we'd travel together from now on. Probably worth it to have the extra gun hand so we'll bring Jayne. Course, can't leave Kaylee here with only Wash to defend her, so she'll have to come and if she comes, so does Saffron. And Wash won't let us go taken the horses without his supervision. And we can't leave the Lady to fend for herself..."

"You can't bring the whole family to suit you." Zach glared.

"Look, I'm not in love with the idea of having a wanted fugitive and his crazy sister sleeping under my roof, but I like it a lot better than maybe never seeing you again." Mal glared right back. "You're my right hand, I can't do this here without you."

"We could set 'em up in the other guest cottage." Kaylee jumped in, smiling. "I've kept it nice and clean. We can't say he's a doctor, but I bet he can pull teeth. No one in town can do that with any kind of skill. Simon could make lots of money doing that. Maybe River could help me out around the place."

"I like dusting." River uncurled a little from Simon's lap. "And I can embroider."

"That'd be a relief." Kaylee laughed. "I can't barely sew and they're always tearing up their clothes."

"They'll need different names. Cover story that people won't ask too much about." Mal pointed out. "Maybe some lost family members."

"They're too refined to be members of my family." Kaylee shook her head. "And if we had a dentist in the family we'd've bragged about it already. What about if you say you knew Simon from the war and he's come to visit with his wife for a while? Bet if you tell people that they're orphans or something to boot, they won't blame us for keeping 'em on long past a decent visit. Maybe their house was burnt down? People like a good drama."

"Smart girl." Mal grinned at her. "And if we give 'em salacious that's what they'll remember. Say someone comes poking around questions asking questions. Mrs. Farber give 'em an earful about he and his new wife were perfectly lovely and isn't it a shame that their homestead in Wyoming burned to the ground and so nice of Captain Reynolds to take them in!"

"Add in a dead baby." Wash chimed in from the door. Everyone turned at once to glare at him. "What? Dead babies make everything more tragic."

"Ja. Miscarriage on the way here. Very sad." Jayne agreed from behind him.

"How long you two eavesdroppers been there?" Mal asked.

"Ve did not leaf." Jayne cocked his head to one side. "Wash could not sleep last night, so he took care of the horses very early. We decided this vould be better. Not haf to tell everything over again."

"Sorry." Wash at least had the decency to say, then looking at Zach. "I'm with them. You should all stay. Did you want us to call you Zoe from now on?"

"I'm Zach now. Been that way too long to go back." He shook his head. "You should go on thinking of me as a man. We'll have enough to new stories to juggle."

"So you'll stay?" Kaylee asked, already beaming.

"Yes." A slow smile spread on his face. "You realize this is bound to end in blood. Maybe ours."

"Oh good." Cradling Saffron to her chest, Kaylee smiled on all of them. "It's really been too long since I got to wave a gun around."


	6. Chapter 6

"In the gray summer garden I shall find you/With day-break and the morning hills behind you. " - Idyll, Siegfried Sassoon

The first hint of dawn cast shadows in Mal's path. The day was already sticky and warm which didn't bode well for after sun rise. Best to get what they could done before the sun drove them inside. As he neared the stable, he could hear the soft rise and fall of Wash's voice as he chatted with the horses.

"You're up early." He commented as he swung open the stable door. Wash was brushing out Misty's coat, occasionally rubbing the mare's swollen belly.

"It'll be scorching in a few hours." Wash gave the mare a kiss on the nose. "Best get work out of the way now."

"You were last up to bed last night."

"Saffron wanted to hear the end of the Shaggy Dog story." Grabbing up a shovel, Wash turned to mucking out Misty's stable.

"Getting to be a pattern that I don't much like. Last few nights it was fixing up all the tack and up to beat the heat. When are you sleeping?"

"I'm asleep right now, actually. I'm sleep working." Wash sank his shovel into the manure. "Tragic ailment, no cure. Just ask the Doc about it."

"Tired men make mistakes."

"We're definitely on our way to a tragic mis-shovel. Oh! We knew him well, but then he hacked through his foot with a shovel and bled out right there in the stable!"

"Everything a joke to you?" Mal moved to Firefly's stall. She looked at him balefully.

"Mostly. I'd rather laugh if there's a choice in the matter."

"Life's serious business."

"Depends on how you look at it." A particularly wet clump came up and Wash tossed it into the growing pile outside.

"How do you look at it?"

"You live some and then you die. You got all this between time where stuff happens. Most of it, you got no control over. You can frown over that and spend the bulk of your time trying to make it different or you can find the best way to make it worth getting up in the morning. You, Zach, the Doc and Book are frowners. World needs you to keep it in good working order like and make things better for the next generation. Kaylee, Jayne and me, we're the other kind. We just try and find the things that make us and the people we love want to keep living."

"You're lumping yourself in with Jayne? You hate him."

"Hate's a strong word." Wash itched his nose on his sleeve. "He's a dumb ox of a man, but he's good at what he does. Keeps us in meat and I'd reckon he'd kill anyone you asked him too. That's an asset. Anyway, a frowner like you wouldn't keep no one on that wasn't adding to your larger plans."

"I don't got no larger plans." Mal started to frown, then stopped, annoyed. "I just want to keep this place running."

"That's why you're taking in every hard luck case from here to the Mississippi River."

"Everyone pulls there fair share around here. Even the Lady pays her rent and chips in to watch Saffron. No one's hard luck."

"Any more. If you hadn't taken Zach into your regiment, where would he be? If you'd told Kaylee to keep walking once you found out she was pregnant? Refused Lady Serra's money because of her vocation? Turned Simon and River out? Most people would've done those things and no one would have said they were wrong."

"Those were practical decisions." Mal insisted. "Dont' know why you're fussing over it, 'specially since it worked to your advantage."

"I'm not fussing." And suddenly Wash was right there, laying a hand on Mal's arm. His face was dirty, but his eyes shone brightly. "Told you, world needs people like you. You see beyond your own interests, your own patch of life to what others might be needing. I think that's noble."

"I don't know if I should be taking compliments from someone covered in horse shit."

Wash's eyes widened and then he laughed. "No one else is handing 'em out, Captain. Could you let go of your girl there? I'm of mind to take her and Misty out to fields for breakfast."

Long after the Irishman had led the horses out, Mal felt his hand lingering on his arm and realized that Wash had skillfully distracted him. He still didn't know whey the man wasn't sleeping. Why those bright blue eyes were becoming rimmed with shadows. Frustrated, he decided to take his feelings out on splitting wood. It was early yet, but if they got started now they could be sure of firewood long into the winter. There was a pile of large sections cut down by Jayne just waiting to be split.

If as he walked away, his eyes strayed to the golden head leading Misty gingerly to the upper pasture, no one was around to comment.

The weary summer sun plodded its path across the sky until Mal had a very respectable pile of neatly split logs. Without a word, Zach emerged from fields to carry a cord up to the main house. Limping a little, Mal walked with him and they parted ways at the door. Mal to tend to his daughter, Zach to retrieve another cord. When he reached the pile of logs, Wash was emerged from the stables.

"Need help? Looks like he did the whole tree."

"Captain likes to keep busy. Take some if you want."

It took them four trips to get everything up to the woodshed. After the last of it, Wash sat down heavily on the back stoop.

"How come you're not even sweating?" He complained.

"This is nothing." Zach grinned. "Where I grew up, the summers were so hot and wet, it was like walking through soup."

"Ai? In Ireland, the summers are usually cooler than this, more like spring." He wiped his forehead on his sleeve. "Can I ask you something?"

"You can, don't know if you should."

"Do you miss living as a woman?"

"Huh. Can't say that was the question I thought you were gonna ask." After a moment's thought, Zach sank down to sit next to him on the stoop. "Why do you want to know?"

"Seems like somebody ought to ask you. Maybe Mal or Kaylee has already, but I figured I should in case someone else hasn't."

"They haven't. Guess they know I don't have a choice at this point, so why dwell on it?" Looking out over the fields, Zach continued on, quieter. "It's not so much that I miss being a woman, wearing skirts or anything like that. I wish that I could be a woman and still have this exact life."

"Kaylee and all?" He guessed.

"Kaylee and all." Zach laughed, surprising him. It was a deep laugh. "You see a lot more than people think."

"No offense, but it's not exactly a hidden secret. Probably only the preacher hasn't put his finger on it. I figured it's fine with Mal, so no business of mine to say anything. Did she always know about you?"

"Mhmm." When Zach smiled like that, Wash wondered how he ever thought him a man. It was the smile of a woman in love. "She does our laundry like. Hard to hide secrets from your laundress."

"And Mal? He acts like he knew from the outset."

"We never talked about it directly. I can't explain it, but it just never seemed important between us. Maybe it was the war that did that. Made it less about what you were hiding and more about what you were doing."

"What question did you think I was going to ask?" Wash leaned back on the stairs, letting a brief cool breeze ruffle his hair.

"Figured it would be about taking a tumble. I see you looking at me sometimes. Like you got that on your mind."

"Do you know why I signed that contract to come to America?"

"Because you can't read? Those things are enough to scare the hair off your arm.."

"It was the only way out at the time. And no, I can't read." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I..well. Never did even say any of this out loud before. But seeing as you are...same as me that way. There was a lad about my age at home. Liam, his name was. We were friends a long time and we did everything together. Things we didn't know we weren't supposed to do. Probably would have carried on with him until my wedding day if his Pa hadn't found us out. Beat Liam near to death and ran me out of the country. Held one hand behind me back while I signed with t'other."

"And what about your family?"

"Liam's Pa lied to 'em. Said I could send money home and wouldn't that be grand? My Ma knew something was wrong though. She cried and wouldn't let me go." He gave Zach a half-smile. "So I was looking at you like that, but more because who you were playing at then who yah are. 'Sides I know a good thing when I see it. You and Kaylee got that."

"Never thought quite about it, but I suppose me and her are lucky. Found each other under the right circumstances."

"That you did. Suppose not believing in the Bible makes it a sight easier too."

"I believe." Carefully, Zach brushed away the first of the night's mosquitoes. "I saw my mama die the way she did and she was a woman that sure loved God. I saw war. It's hard to wrap your head around a good and benign Lord when you see things like that. Hard to hold onto that die hard, sure as the earth beneath my feet faith after that. I was angry with Him for a long time. Then I figured it ain't His fault, if he's up there at all. It's not Him I lost faith in, it's the people He made."

"Does that make it all right to sin?"

"It makes it all right to love, way I see it. Love who you can, when you can and fight tooth and nail to keep 'em."

"That's a philosophy I think I could get behind." Wash grinned. "You ever shared that bit of wisdom with the Captain?"

"No. Never figured him ready to hear it from me." Zach regarded him thoughtfully. "Might be willing to hear it from you."

"Why me?" Wash asked bewildered.

"Oh, reckon that you and him got more in common in that area than you think."

"Right." Wash snorted.

They sat there together a few more minutes, watching the sun sink down until Kaylee happened upon them.

"I was just gonna get you in for dinner!" She beamed down at them. "You two look cozy."

"What's for dinner?" Zach rose up and bussed Kaylee on the cheek.

"Rabbit stew. I got some nice carrots out of the garden that made it nice and sweet. River chopped up the rabbit." She wrinkled her nose. "Don't say nothin', she's real proud of herself. Between you and me it looks a mess."

"We saw the sandwiches." Wash laughed. "As long as she's taken it out on things what are already dead."

"The dead can feel pain." River peeked out over Kaylee's shoulder. "Also, something is burning."

Dinner was salvaged and they ate around the big dining room table. It was nice, having everyone pile around the table, passing large bowls of food back and forth. Their talk filled the house with noise, chasing away the shadows even as the sun vanished entirely.

"Doc, you know your letters and numbers real good, right?" Zach asked over the din.

"I like to think so. I told Mal I'd help with the books, but he said he doesn't trust me yet."

"Don't take it personal. Mal doesn't trust anyone he hasn't known for at least five years. That's not why I'm asking."

"I'm listening."

"Seems to me that learning is a powerful good thing for folks like us, but also hard to get. I know you're looking for a way to earn your keep. Think you'd mind playing school master at night? Nothing complicated, just enough to read a bit and write. Mal and I can already, but I wouldn't mind learning more than kid's stuff."

"I want to know how to sign my new name!" Kaylee chimed in.

"I'd like to write my Ma." Said Wash, shooting Zach a grateful look. "I can already add and subtract in my head."

"The Deacon told father that I didn't need knowledge." River cocked her head to one side. "Sent away all the tutors. I'd like to know more things."

Everyone looked at Jayne. Jayne looked at his food.

"I have some Deutsch. English is not needed."

"As long as it don't interfere with nobodies work." Mal interjected, pointing a fork at Simon. "And as long as it ain't distracting."

"Yes, sir." Simon nodded solemnly.

To obey Mal's edict, the little class agreed to assemble after the dinner dishes were done. Though only Kaylee, Zoe, Wash and River had put themselves forward, everyone else lingered. Simon ignored the hanger-ons and started to quiz Zoe and River on where their learning had ended. He set them to reading some of the books he could find in the house, before drawing Kaylee and Wash closer.

"Do you have any letters at all?" He asked them gently.

"Nothing." Kaylee shook her head gloomily. "Mama said it weren't for girls."

"Like I said, I can do some math, but no reading." Wash blushed, ducking his head. "I was needed more at home, then for school."

"That makes it easier. We start directly at the beginning. Next time we're in town, we can pick up some slates, but if the Captain approves we can waste a bit of paper for now."

"Hm?" Mal looked up from where he was cleaning his musket, looking for all the world like he hadn't been eavesdropping.

"Can we use some paper, Captain? I know it's fair expensive, but we don't have anything less costly to experiment with."

"No skin off my nose."

Hiding a grin, Simon retreated to the office, returning with ink, quills and paper. He carefully wrote out the alphabet in uppercase and lowercase. Teaching came surprisingly easy to him. He recalled how his better tutors had been and emulated him. Kaylee and Wash listened well and by bedtime, they were making careful copies of his letters, repeating their names as they went.

"Lights out." Mal determined when River's eyelids started to droop over the bulky history text Simon had given her.

"Oh!" Kaylee jumped to her feet. "I gotta put Saffron down. My poor baby!"

"It's all right, dear." Lady Serra smiled. "I looked after her. She's snug in her bed now. I'll mind her while you take your lessons."

"Thank you, Lady. You're really too good to us." Kaylee rounded on Simon and impulsively pulled him into a hug. "So are you, Doc."

"It's nothing." Simon stiffened, gingerly patting her back. "You're a quick study."

Everyone retreated to their various rooms and cottages, opening their windows to let in whatever breeze could be coaxed from the night. An hour later, Wash was up again. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd missed one of the lamps in the study and he knew he'd never get to sleep if he didn't check. With a quiet born of practice, he slunk down the stairs. Light spilled out across the bottom landing, vindicating him. Except it wasn't coming from the study. Someone was still in the dinning room, muttering under his breath.

"I thought you didn't need English." Wash said quietly.

"You are not good at sneaking. Sound like many horses running." Jayne was leaning over the sheets of paper they'd left in neat stacks, looking at them like they might hold the key to the universe.

"Simon would let you sit in if you wanted."

"Nien. He would not like my reason for learning."

"Which is?"

"The fraulein asks me to teach her Deutsche." Jayne sat down heavily. "He does not like me looking at sister. Imagine teaching her things! Need English to explain Deutsche. The letters zey are the same. How you say them, not so much."

"You really like River?" Wash sat down across from him, taken off guard by this revelation.

"Ja. She is weiße Hexe, I think."

"A what?"

"Is a...good sort of witch." Ducking his head, Jayne busied himself playing with his knife. "Maybe a bit wrong in the head, but good in the heart."

"You know that pretty much everyone here will kill you if you lay even a finger on her."

"I teach her my language, not try to violate her!" Growled the big man. "Even this I must do sneaky quiet. Not fair."

"No." Wash agreed, leaning back in his chair, thinking his own thoughts. "It isn't. How about I teach you what I learn after everyone's gone to bed? I cannae sleep anyway."

"You would do this?"

"Don't make me regret it." The chair creaked as Wash tilted it farther back.

"I vill not. Danke schön!" Jayne grinned. "This is thank you. Maybe I teach you Deutshe as well?"

"Oh hell, why not?" Wash reached a hand out. "How do I say 'you're welcome'?"

Jayne's hand nearly encompassed Wash's as they shook. " Bitte schön."

"Bitte schon." Wash repeated with a grin. Together they looked over what Simon had taught Wash. Jayne had listened some, but not absorbed most of it. Jayne was a slow student, but he managed and finally went to bed, still too grateful for the small offering of friendship.

Now far too wound up to sleep, Wash reasoned he might as well take a look out for the horses. He walked into the kitchen, thinking to grab a hunk of bread as a late night snack before going downstairs. Only to find Mal sitting with his feet propped up on the kitchen table.

"You're full of shit, you know." Mal said quietly.

"Does everyone in this house have cat's feet?" Wash demanded. "And I'd like to think I'm full of blood and vital organs."

"I was thinking on that nice lecture you read me this morning and here I was halfway to agreeing with you. Then I come down to see who's keeping me awake with their talking."

"How much did you hear?"

"Most of it, I reckon. I think maybe your kind of people and my kind are the same kind. You've just learned to smile through it."

Wash poured himself a glass of water from the stone pitcher. "It's a bit late for philosophical debate."

"Why ain't you sleeping?"

"I'm not tired. We gonna have this conversation again?"

"I don't like mysteries."

"Good thing this isn't one." He sipped the water slowly, enjoying the slide of it down his throat. "Never needed much sleep. The end."

"Except when you first came here, you slept all the time."

"Had a real bed for the first time, didn't I? Tends to relax a fellow. Now I'm used to it."

"The first few months after the war, I wasn't easy in my bed." Mal watched him carefully. "Bad memories can stir your sleep."

"Goddamn, Mal, is that what you want? You wanna hear my long sad story so you can play hero?" Wash set down his glass. "I'm a grown man with very few demons. I don't need you to rescue me more than you already have."

"So what do you need?"

"Nothing. I got a nice life these days. Spend my days with horses, my nights with folk I like. Got food, a bed and even a right to gripe on occasion. Perfect."

"Some men might be wantin' a wife."

"I ain't that kind of man."

"Too afraid to settle down?"

"Not interested. Women wear me out. And the ones that'd have me, ain't much to speak of anyway. I'm too poor, too foreign."

Even in the dark, Wash's hair shone. It took a minute for his words to penetrate. Was it possible that instead of being disgusted by Mal's more perverse thoughts, Wash might share them? The possibility had never occurred to Mal before.

"That's it? You going to live out your days alone?" He asks instead of the question he really wants the answer to.

"I ain't alone." Wash grinned. "I've got everyone here. But if you mean alone in my bed, well. A wife isn't keeping you from that, now is it?"

Mal's eyes flashed dangerously. "You got something to say?"

"You started this one." Wash pointed out. "Look Kaylee and Zach want to carry on, that's their business, but I reckon it leaves you cold at night. You want to talk lonely, maybe invest in a mirror."

"I knew what I was getting into."

"Did you? Bet that's real reassuring right about now."

"You got a point to make?" Mal stood up and Wash tended to forget that how tall the Captain was until he was looking at him eye to shoulder.

"Only that you might want to tend to your own needs before you start worrying over mine." Wash swallowed. "Sir."

"This morning I was a decent person, today you think I'm a needy bastard who can't have his own wife and might beat you to a pulp."

"Never did say any of that second part." Protested Wash. "I know you were good to Kaylee. Why you married her. Small place, we all in each others business. Only said it might leave you with the same problem you want to pin on me."

"Zach always said I wasn't a marrying man and Kaylee helped with that." Mal's eyes slid off of Wash's face. "Always thought he meant it was because I was scarred up from the war."

"Maybe." Pieces were starting to fall together, his conversation with Zach starting to make sense. "Or maybe that you weren't looking for a woman at all. Why don't you mind Zach and Kaylee being together? I mean what with them both being girls really?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Answer the question, I promise, I got a point."

"I don't think of Zach as a girl." Mal shrugged. "Maybe I should, but you live a certain way with someone for so long, its hard to change that."

"And what about if they were both men, would that bother you?"

"Wouldn't matter what I thought. Everyone else would lynch 'em before I could think about it." Mal answered cautiously. "People'll look away from the doings of women, but they got strong feelings on that that subject."

"Never known you to worry about public opinion before." Wash shrugged. "Figure with all the nonsense we get up to out here, two men sharing a bed would be the least of our worries."

"You said you had a point."

Wash wiped his sweating palms off on his pants. If he was a different person, he might have accepted all this and moved on. But he'd always been impulsive about things that were important to him.

"I'm starting to think..." Wash said quietly. "That maybe our needs can solve each other. Sometimes, I feel you looking at me. When I look up, you never are, thought I was going crazy. But if...if I'm not crazy and you were looking, then I think you should know I was looking back."

"Ah." Mal didn't even blink, he stood frozen. "You were looking."

"You're a handsome man. Sick bastards like me notice these things. Did notice. Figured it would be harder for someone like me than someone like you." Wash realized he was babbling now, but couldn't stop himself. "I mean, I still feel like I gotta run to confession after I admit things like that. You don't have that compulsion."

"Habits don't die as fast as beliefs." Mal shook his head. "What do you want from me?"

Wash leaned up and slide a hand behind Mal's neck. He drew him down slowly, giving Mal time to escape or lash out. He did neither. Wash licked his own lips before pressing them to Mal's. Dimly, Wash was aware his hands were shaking, but he kept on until Mal relaxed in his arms and started kissing back. The fear returned when Mal pulled away and said hoarsely:

"Too short."

"Huh?" Wash blinked up at him. "That's your objection."

"Ayup. Lucky for you I'm creative."

Then the floor wasn't beneath his feet anymore. Wash yelped as Mal sat him on the edge of the counter-top, then calmed as the kissing resumed. With Mal actively participating, things improved vastly. They both needed a bath before they smelled at all pretty, but Wash had a fondness for the scent of hard work. The skin on Mal's hands were calloused and burning hot. His mouth tasted like butter and apples. Like pie. Wash loved pie. He wrapped one leg behind Mal's to draw him closer. The man's clothes were worn and patched, but kept neat as a pin. Wash attempted to untuck shirt from pants, but found sweat had plastered both to the lean body.

"Can I help you?" Mal pulled away to watch his efforts with amusement.

"Your clothes are melted on!" Wash complained, still tugging ineffectually. "I will not be defeated!"

"Calm down there." Laughing, Mal batted Wash's hands away. "Maybe it's for the best. Don't know rightly how to go about this, but I seem to remember its not supposed to be this quick."

"Are you calling me easy, captain?"

"I had my eye on you nearly a year. I'd say that makes you damnably difficult." Mal reached forward to push a few sweat soaked locks of hair out of Wash's eyes. "We got time now. I want to use it."

"Aw, you would turn out to be a romantic." Wash grinned.

"Don't go spreading it around."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Wash shook his head. "Course, the way things work out, everyone will know eventually. You all right with that?"

"Think I could live with it, long as no one makes a mess of it or tells who they shouldn't."

"Who's gonna do that? The witch, the bounty hunter who's supposed to be dead, the secret sapphic couple, the concubine, or the black preacher who's probably smuggling slaves to Canada?"

"He is?"

"I said probably. My point is, that everyone here's got a good reason to look the t'other way if they weren't otherwise inclined to."

"What if it don't work? What if I wind up hating you?"

"Then I take my percent of the profits and find another place to work. Or we both get over it. I hope it's the second one. Feels like home here."

"I been thinking of changing the name."

"Of what?"

"This place." Mal picked up Wash's hand, admiring the long slim fingers that he knew could easily sooth a frantic mare as they could reign in a raging stallion. "Reynolds Stables was what my father named it."

"You could change it to the Insane Asylum. I think that's what the folks in town call it anyway."

"You're a brat."

"Been told that." Wash agreed.

"I'll think on it." Mal decided. "Go lie down in your bed and at least pretend to sleep. Make me feel better."

"I can do that." Hoping off the counter, Wash started up stairs.

"Wash?"

"Yes?"

"Think you best let go of my hand first."


	7. Chapter 7

"Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead /Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing..." Ode to the West Wind, Percy Bysshe Shelley

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" Kaylee sighed. "Ain't that a pretty piece."

"Yes, dear." Zach said agreeably. "Was the first three times you read it out to me too."

"I can't help it! I read it all by my ownself. I mean, Simon still had to help me with some of it, but I read it! Ain't that something?"

"You are something." Mal agreed. "Now make sure that you're catching all the juice."

"I am! I even got a good helper." She leaned down to tickle Saffron. The girl had her own tiny pail. She'd been dutifully holding it under the space where the press leaked. Now she squealed with laughter, spilling some of her gain onto the floor.

"Can we trade?" Wash called out. "Yours is prettier."

"Hey!" Jayne protested. "I am doing all this cutting and you are sitting cracking jokes. I vish to do the switching."

"You're better with a knife." Wash grumbled, but set his attention back on his job.

"Why are we using cotton for this?" Simon asked as he plugged the tops of bottles. "All sorts of things can get into without a proper top."

"Pressure, Doc." Mal added the next batch of Wash and Jayne's slices to press. "Juice turns to cider makes a whole lot of bubbles. Leave a regular bottle cap on and you'll get a nice pile of apple flavored glass. In a couple of days, we'll bottle those out."

"I thought that's what cork was for." Lady Serra had insisted on helping, but no one could see there way clear to giving her much hard labor. She and the Pastor were sorting through the apples and tossing aside the rotten or maggoty ones. Those they'd add to the compost heap for the vegetable garden.

"Cork's too solid for that. That the right word doc?"

"Permeable or porous." Simon suggested.

"You can switch with me." River batted her eyelashes at Wash. "The future bubbles tickle my nose and I prefer knives."

"Stay away from the knives." Interjected Simon before Wash could accept. "Remember last week?"

"Didn't mean it."

"I know, but I'd feel better if we didn't play with knives for a while."

"Ich würde besser zu fühlen, wenn Sie eine Ziege geküsst." She muttered to herself. Jayne stifled a laugh.

"Brennen Hexe." He told her and she smiled at him.

"Have I mentioned that I really hate that you taught my sister a new language for her to insult me in? Because I do."

"Only a few dozen times." Wash assured him. "And by now we're all real clear on it."

"You're just jealous." River said sweetly. "Because I know something you don't know."

"I'm not jealous!"

"I could teach you." Jayne offered as he expertly sliced his apple into quarters.

"No, thank you." Simon shuddered.

"Less talking, more working." Mal barked. "We've only a few horses this year, we're gonna need this cider for barter to get through the winter."

Everyone settled into a silence, working methodically. The quiet reigned for nearly ten minutes, before River said quietly.

"He's coming."

Eight pairs of eyes were on her. Her eyes were rolling back in her head and Simon raced to grab her before she fell to floor.

"Who's coming, River?"

"He sent his spies and his agents like rats to find us. The bear ate some of them up, gobbled them with sharp claws and teeth, but he couldn't stop them all. They found us. And now he's coming."

"Is it the Deacon, River?" Simon shook her. "How far away is he?"

"Breathing down our necks and wearing sheep's clothing. Insult to wolves. I won't mate with him."

"No, River, you won't have to, I promise." Simon held her tight. "He's never going to touch you."

"I can make his heart explode." She said firmly, then went limp.

"That don't sound like a passel of good." Mal crossed his hands over his chest, then found his hands were stuck to his shirt with juice. "Goddamnit."

"We get to kill him, right?" Zach's hand twitched, reaching for the knife he'd left in the house. "I really want to kill this bastard."

"Can't say I'm fond of letting him live, but this ain't no two bit bounty hunter like some."

"Hey!" Jayne protested.

"No one would have noticed if we shot you dead, Jayne and that's a fact. Probably would've gotten an award. Someone'll notice if this Deacon goes missing and I bet he's not stupid enough not to have back up."

"We hafta convince him she's gone." Wash put in. "He's got no interest in us otherwise."

"Doc, you got anymore of that drug that made her look dead? Maybe we could convince him that she passed on."

"Too dangerous. I'm telling you, he didn't want her as his wife. She's a science experiment to him. He'd take her corpse to dissect." Simon shook his head. "We'll have to make a run for it."

"Thought I made it clear, no one's leaving my land unless I kick 'em out." Mal shook his head. "There's gotta be away to get rid of this fool. Farther away, the better. Now tell me more about how that drug works."

All thoughts of cider were forgotten as they group moved closer together, the plan spinning out between them, then turned over again and again.

"Simon?" River sat up, coughing. "What are we talking about?"

"Gonna make it better, fraulein." Jayne kneeled down to her. "We're gonna fix it."

"I'm tired." She yawned.

"I vill take her back to her bed." Picking her up like she weighed nothing at all. River rubbed her cheek on his chest. "Doc needs to help plan, I vill help do."

Before anyone could protest, he was carrying her across the lawn to the guest house.

"Anyone else a mite disturbed by that?" Mal asked. Everyone's hand, but Kaylee's went up.

"I think it's sweet." She said. "...in a disturbing sorta way."

"I can't even think about it right now." Simon decided. "I'll deal with it after we've gotten the Deacon squared away."

Lessons were canceled for the night. Instead they went over and over the plan. Then they practiced, drilling until they could execute it effortlessly at a moment's notice.

"Now it's the waiting." Zach said as they all sunk exhausted into their chairs. "I hate the waiting."

"River said 'breathing down our necks'. That strikes me as soon." Mal rubbed his forehead. "I'd recommend everyone get to bed and wake up thinking it'll go down tomorrow. Do that every day until it does."

"Cheery, sir." Zach reached for Kaylee's hand and pulled her out of her chair. "Let's get Saffron bedded down proper."

The little girl had fallen asleep sucking on an apple slice at Kaylee's feet. She protested sleepily when Zach bent to pick her up.

"I should check on River." Simon said, heading out into the night.

"I'll get to work on the props." The pastor stood, knees cracking and followed Simon out.

"Lady, you'll have to turn away your clients for a few days." Mal reminded her. "I'm sorry and I'll wave this month's rent if it'll help."

"Don't fuss about it. And Captain?" She stood and walked to his chair.

"Yes?"

"You can call me Inara." She bent and kissed his temple. "I think you've earned it."

"The name or the kiss?" Mal tilted his head to one side.

"They come together." She smiled, before gliding out the door.

"Should I be jealous?" Wash asked.

"Only if you're inclined to worry about things that aren't happening."

"There's enough to worry about without inventing new things." Wash agreed. "No one's sleeping in their own beds tonight, you're aware?"

"Probably not, but I'm required to lecture anyhow."

"Means your bed is probably empty right about now."

"Probably." Mal agreed absently, then Wash's words sunk in and he started to smile.

Blue eyes sparking, Wash checked once more to make the room was well clear, before leaning down for a kiss. Eagerly, Mal drew him down. Heat leaped between them, pulling them towards the bedroom with only a few furtive checks to ensure their privacy. The bed cushioned their haphazard descent and their clothes made messy piles on the floor. Unwilling to let their first time dissolve into animal rutting, Mal pushed Wash down and preceded to leisurely document his entire body.

The night tightened in around them, hushing their harsh breathing and cradling them in darkness. There was just enough light for Wash to see the evolution of Mal's expressions from focused intent to utter abandon. Neither of them spoke or dared even to groan lest it break the fragile peace they had achieved together.

In the aftermath, they parted, lying next to each other scarcely touching. Wash tried to stay awake to savor the experience, but sleep demanded him. Reluctantly, he closed his eyes. In the morning, he would find his traitorous body had acted without his consent. His hand had crept over the the small divide between them and had curled possessively around Mal's bicep while a renegade leg had flung itself across the bed. He'd sleep-cuddled.

"Ain't that a picture!" Kaylee's bright voice pierced the room. The Captain was up in seconds, hand flying to his waist to reach for his knife, only to remember he was naked. Kaylee was leaning against the door frame of the bedroom. Wash, just starting to rouse, moved more languidly.

"Woman, what've I told you about waking me up?" Mal snapped, searching the floor for his pants.

"That I should do it when we got something to wake up for." She glanced over at Wash. "Besides, I got a right to appreciate what goes on in my own bed, don't I?"

"You ain't upset?" Wash asked, eyeing her carefully. "I know it ain't natural and he is your husband."

"I guess I'm upset no one thought to tell me, but I can't say I got much room to carry on otherwise. Wouldn't got round telling everyone else though." She shrugged. "Too bad. You two look mighty fine together."

"Stop stealing eyefuls." Mal grumbled. "Work to be done today."

"There's always work to do." She laughed and turned on her heels. "Breakfast'll be ready soon."

"I'm sorry." Wash said into the silence she left behind. "Should've gotten gone before I fell asleep."

"I could've woken you up." Mal shrugged on his shirt. "Truth is, I liked it. Can't say we can repeat it often, but considering the circumstances I think it was all right."

Wash's grin was well worth the price of admitting to enjoying his closeness. Going down to breakfast, Mal found himself in an unusually good mood. Despite everyone's concerns about the coming confrontation, the good feeling seemed to catch. Everyone chatted merrily until Simon came down the stairs, already in his visiting suit.

"Vhere do you think to go?" Jayne demanded.

"To town to see my clients as usual." Simon said as he pulled on his gloves. "I thought I might forward our efforts a little."

"That's smart!" Kaylee crowed. "Those awful gossips won't be able to help themselves."

"Maybe I should come with you Doctor." Book rose from the table. "Servants tend to spread gossip faster than their masters."

After they left, the mood was not quite as jolly. Everyone departed to do their work and listen attentively for approaching hoof beats. None were forthcoming. Kaylee served dinner with shaky hands and no one said very much. Simon returned and insisted on lessons as usual, but no one could concentrate. Saffron toddled from person to person demanding attention until Lady Serra plucked her and interested her in a bit of needlepoint.

"Maybe River was wrong." Zack suggested, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. "Or we misunderstood her."

"No." Jayne shook his head. "She sees."

"I can't remember." River said softly. "It's all a blur of paints and fiction."

"We'll sleep in watches. Two to a watch." Mal decided.

"Keptin?" Jayne cleared his throat.

"Might as well put on a pot of coffee too."

"Keptin..."

"In the morning, we'll ride the perimeter make sure there's not been any incursions."

"Mal!" Jayne yelled.

"What?!"

"Hoofbeats."

The room went quiet. Sure enough, very faintly in the distance, horses approached. Mal grimaced.

"Why didn't you say so? Everyone get going. This time of night only kind of visitor is the bad kind."

Everyone scattered, moving to their assigned spaces. Mal limped dramatically outside and slumped on the front porch steps looking weary. Cresting the top of the hill was a fancy looking carriage. It halted briefly to read the brightly painted sign that warned 'Quarantine' in Lady Serra's crisp lettering. From where he sat, Mal could hear some argument and saw the driver shaking his head at whoever was inside the coach. Whatever was said, the driver seemed to lose and moved back to his place behind the horses. The carriage kept on, clean and rich. The smell of new good leather practically preceded it as it came to rest a few yards from the stoop.

"You Captain Reynolds?" The driver asked, glancing at him nervously.

"Yes, sir." Mal coughed. "Though I think you best turn around now. There's a mighty bad sickness here."

The carriage door opened, spitting forth and immaculately dressed man wearing a large gold cross. His hair was slicked back, but otherwise Mal couldn't get a fix on his face. He was the kind of man you could talk to for some time, only to not recognize him on the street the next day.

"Do you know who I am?"

"No,sir." Mal coughed again. "I thought maybe you were a neighbor come to bring some succor."

"Your neighbors seem to think you're dying of the plague."

"No plague, sir. It's a curse."

"A curse? Come now, Captain Reynolds. Surely it is a regular malady that ails you and yours."

"It's a curse, sir. May I ask who you are and what your business is? I wouldn't be so abrupt only they may have need of me inside."

"You can call me Deacon. My business is a young girl by the name of River Tam."

"The witch!" Mal yelped. "You've come for the harlot bitch what did this to us?"

"She is not a witch." The Deacon didn't so much as flinch. "The young lady is my wife."

"Your wife? She's married to the Devil! Man with hair black as night and eyes that look straight through you."

"You've met the devil?" The Deacon looked amused.

"I've met her husband. He brought her to us. Claimed he needed someone to watch over her for a bit, said he could pay me. Every few weeks he shows back up with money. Every week we beg him to take her away. She scares my wife with her stories, the farmhands think she's possessed. Finally, I tell that no good son of a bitch that he better take her out of here or I'll kill her myself. You know what he did?"

"What?" Deacon's eyes darted everywhere, taking the farmhouse in.

"He laughed, sir. Laughed like he ain't had no soul. Told me she was carrying her seed and no one with the Devil's get in them could be hurt by a man." Mal shivered. "First I thought he was mad, but then he walked off pretty as you pleased. Next time the girl got up to her tricks, I went to hit her. I ain't proud of hitting a woman, but that ain't no normal girlie. Soon as my hand went up, my wife done cried out like it was her I was aiming to hit. When I turned, she looked like death himself was holding on to her."

"Did she faint?" The Deacon ask exasperated.

"No, sir. She done died, not two days ago. I locked that witch up in the shed, but one of my men felt poorly for her. He snuck her some food." Mal shook his head. "I told 'em she was dangerous."

"Dead?" Finally, the Deacon seemed concerned and Mal shook his head solemnly.

"Worse. He's in her power. I had to chain him up with her and he's a powerful big brute. The two of them keep us up all night talking in tongues and laying their curses on us. Two more have died and we ain't even had time to bury my own..." He heaved back a sob. "My poor Kaylee! She was an innocent, Deacon. Practically untouched by this world."

"And what of this man claiming to be the Devil?"

"Who knows the working of demons?" Mal wiped at his dry eyes. "When we still thought he was earthly made, we reckoned he was involved in some bad trade in Boston. Bet he could be halfway to Europe by now. Course the Devil goes wherever he pleases."

"I'd like to see my wife now, Captain." The Deacon said firmly, though Mal could see him trembling about the edges.

"I hope you're sure, sir." Mal started back in towards the house.

"I thought you said she was out in the back?"

"She is, sir, but I best be checking on my little girl first. I got the nurse watching her now."

The Deacon stepped reluctantly inside the house. All the drapes were closed and all the fires were blazing turning the place into a sweat lodge. Laid out on the dining room table was the body of woman, clearly dead, reverently covered in a quilt. Somewhere upstairs, someone was sobbing.

"Jilly, where are you lass?" Mal called out.

"Here, sir." Lady Serra emerged looking much transformed. Mal had to give her credit. The torn dress, mussed hair and wild eyes made her look every inch a put upon nanny. Saffron was asleep in her arms. The girl looked flushed from the heat and occasionally gave a pathetic cough. "She's doing better, truly sir! Look, she ain't hardly hot to the touch anymore."

The Deacon stared in horror at the child.

"Why hasn't a doctor seen her?"

"What she got, no doctor can cure." Lady Serra said gently. "We keep her comfortable and pray for the best."

The sobbing upstairs was rising into screams.

"Give him the whiskey." Mal told her just loud enough so the Deacon could hear. "Not right for a man still alive to feel that much pain."

"Who's screaming?" Deacon demanded.

"My brother." Mal looked up the stairs. "Woke up fine yesterday morning, by last night he was sweating blood."

"Sweating blood?"

"We washed him to see where it was coming from, but it doesn't come from nowhere. Keeps appearing and he says each drop feels like a match been dropped on him. Maybe you could talk to him some before you go? He's a religious man and it would do him some good."

"Perhaps." The Deacon looked sick now. "Please. My wife."

"If you insist." Mal ducked down to kiss Saffron's forehead. "Be good for Jilly, little girl. Daddy loves you."

Leading the way outside, Mal gave the signal and the shed started to shudder and quake. Strange shadows danced across the lawn and the screaming from the house followed them all the way to the shed door. Lifting a heavy key from his pocket, Mal fussed with the chains keeping the door tightly shut. Soon, they fell away and the doors slid open. The rank smell of bad apples filled their noses. A single candle burned a top the apple press, throwing thin shreds of light into the darkness.

Hanging from the center of the room in chains was River. Her dark hair spilled free from plaits, covering most of her face. Her dress was a coppery red that picked up what light there was an refracted it across the floor. Chained more thoroughly to the wall behind her was Jayne. He was smeared all over with dirt and most of his clothes had been torn away to show off his impressive muscles.

"Hello husband." River smiled, too broadly for comfort. "Here at last?"

"You shouldn't have run away from me." The Deacon stepped forward. Mal had to give him credit, the man was brave. "I could have helped you. Simon cannot heal you."

"Simon is dead." Her grin widened impossibly. "When he took me from you, I laid him down by the side of the road and took from him what I needed. Than my true husband came for him."

"I am your true husband in the eyes of the Lord, River." He reminded her. She cackled.

"You are a pathetic excuse for a man, who could not bring himself to lie with a young pretty bride on their wedding night. Does your Lord encourage a husband to take his relief with children while his wife waits for him?"

"Lies!" The Deacon yelled.

"I see into the nasty dark corners of every man's soul. Yours is filled with greed for power and greed for girls still clinging to their mother's skirts. How old was I when you decided to wed me? Nearly too old for your tastes."

"Shut up, you filthy whore!" He struck her across the face.

"That was a bad idea." She said peacefully, from behind her Jayne growled. His chains rattled, then one by one, broke. "My pet is very protective."

"Ich werde Sie sehr langsam und lachen die ganze Zeit, die ihr unbedingt töten." Jayne said as he advanced, rolling his tongue through his native language until it did sound quite hellish. "Sie werden nie wieder berühren!"

"River! River, stop this!" The Deacon turned suddenly pleading. "I only wanted the best for you. I would have treated you like a goddess."

"You would have sold me to the highest bidder and let them dissect me."

Jayne picked up the Deacon by the scruff his neck.

"Little man." Jayne said quietly. "Make your peace with your lord."

The Deacon's eyes slid closed and he started to speak quietly in Latin.

"Please." Mal turned on River. "Spare him! Has there not been enough death?"

"I agree." Pastor Book entered through the door. He wore the robes of a Catholic priest. Mal hadn't even known he owned them. "This has gone on long enough."

The Deacon flailed in Jayne's grip. "What now?" He moaned.

"I've come to arrest this young woman."

"Under whose authority?" The Deacon tried to straighten up, but found it impossible.

"His Holiness Pope Pius VI." From the folds of his priestly robes, Book produced a sealed document. "In his stead, I am here to claim this woman and return her to Rome. I have to thank you, Deacon for finding her for me. I barely had to expand any resources, just followed along your clumsy investigation."

"The Pope?" The Deacon looked blurry at River who thrashed on her chains.

"I'm sick of holy men!" She railed. "Stay back."

"Be silent, child." Book produced a large cross in one hand and bottle of holy water in the other. "Get thee back demon and release this girl."

River shook, eyes rolling back in her head like one of her fits and went limp in her chains. Jayne blinked and dropped the Deacon to the floor.

"I must ask, Deacon, as a favor to the Church that this incident is not mentioned. It would be gravely embarrassing for all involved." Book helped the other man off the floor. "I hear you are wanted in England to serve the Anglicans. I recommend that you leave as soon as possible. I have prepared a letter for you signed by an Archbishop relieving you of responsibility for the girl. If the Anglican church chooses not to honor it, they may take it up with the Vatican."

"Oh." Deacon took the letter and stared at it blankly. "Why does the Church want her? How did a Negro become an agent of the pope?"

"You are hardly of enough rank to ask those questions, sir." Book smiled thinly at him. "Head to Boston now and get yourself a ship."

"Yes, yes. All right." Deacon took the proffered letter and stumbled out of the shed towards his carriage.

"Oh and Deacon?"

"Yes?"

"Please remember that shaming the Church has rarely ended well for anyone, yes?"

Deacon nodded and walked slowly away from the scene then hit at a dead run towards his carriage, leaping in and yelling at his driver to leave.

"I don't much like improvising." Mal said slowly. "But that was a nice twist there, Book. Didn't figure you for an actor."

"I'm not." Carefully, Book folded up his papers and slipped them into his pocket. "I would not lie about the Church."

"That sounds like a good story that I'd much like to hear. You'll have to tell me about it someday."

"No." Book turned around with a slight smile. "I don't."


	8. Chapter 8

"I never want the grass to bloom:/The snowstorm's best in white. /I love to see the tempest come /And love its piercing light." -John Clare

"Look!" Kaylee ran into the house, stomping snow from her boots. "Mr. Farber's dropped off a Christmas gift!"

"Present!" Saffron cried, running circles around Kaylee's feet. "Present for me?"

"No, honey. This one's for your father."

"He's late with it." Mal grumbled from the sitting room.

"With all those awful storms, we're lucky he made it at all." She set down the package for him.

"The men have come and they are hungry!" Wash shouted out through the kitchen. "We are willing to eat raw meat."

"Don't be foolish!" Kaylee rolled her eyes and meandered back into the kitchen. "You'll eat the nice dinner I made you and stop carrying on like a herd of horses. Which you smell like, by the by."

"Can't help that, dear." Zach laughed, brushing a kiss on her cheek. "Happens when you work with the beasts all day."

"Firefly's about ready to foal, I think." Wash said when Mal came in. "We'll have to check on her tonight."

"Poor girl's been uncomfortable, about time that kid decided to make an appearance." Mal shrugged. "We can light the pot belly in there to help keep us warm in the meantime. Where's Jayne?"

"He was with us." Zach's eyebrows knit.

"I thought he was." Wash peered out into the darkening night.

"Has anyone seen River?" Simon came in through the front door. "She jumped out of the buggy about a mile away from home and said she wanted to walk."

"She hasn't gotten back yet. Should we go and look for her?" Kaylee bit her lip. "It's awful dark and the snow might start up again soon."

"We'll give her a few minutes yet." Mal decided. "Let's get dinner started for now."

Saffron grabbed up the silverware and solemnly handed it piece by piece to Wash to set the table. Mal cut the roast while Kaylee set steaming bowls of soup at everyone's place and gave everyone one scoop of black-eyed peas for luck. Zach spruced up the remaining Christmas decorations to make it look festive. Coming in a bit late, Inara and Book found themselves shooed to the table.

"I hope this year is quiet." Kaylee said with a sigh when she finally slid into her seat. "Be nice to have everything go as planned."

"I don't think I've ever had a year like that." Inara laughed.

"I don't think I've ever had a week like that." Wash poured everyone a glass of cider. "Tell me if you do though."

"It'd be nice though." She pulled Saffron into her lap. "Just calm, quiet...Simon, what's another word for calm?"

"Serene."

"Serene." She repeated. "I like that. Be nice to have a little sereneness around here."

"Maybe we can." Wash grinned. "How about that for name, Mal? Serene Stables."

"Serene? Sounds like a funeral parlor." Zach wrinkled his nose.

"Serene." Mal said slowly. "Maybe not Serene...but what about Serenity? Serenity Stables and Orchard."

"I like it." Kaylee beamed. "If we paint up a nice sign with Inara's pretty script, I can look at it and always have a bit of peace."

The front door shot open, hitting the wall with a bang.

"Goddamnit!" Mal jumped up. "What now?"

"Keptin, a warm blanket please?"

Jayne stood in the doorway, holding onto a shivering River.

"What happened?" Simon ran over, examining her. "She's freezing!"

"I found her in a tree like late vinter apple. I think she climbed it then had a fit and lost her coat, ja?"

"Jayne plucked me. I think that means he can keep me. Finder's keepers." She smiled at her brother. "Also he asked me to marry him while I was unconscious."

"Nien!" He denied, trying not to jostle her. "I think she is sleeping and tell her she is nice girl. Maybe one day maybe she be something else for me. Zat is all!"

"He said he'd like to see me in a wedding dress." She yawned and slipped from his arms. "I think that'd be nice too."

"What? River!" Simon sputtered.

"Here's a warm blanket for you, honey." Kaylee wrapped her up. "Let's get you settled into bed with some hot soup."

"Can Saffron come with me?" River trailed up the stairs. "I'll need a flower girl."

"Ri'vr story!" Saffron demanded scampering up the stairs. "Story!"

"All right, just this once. C'mon my girls, up we go." Herding River upwards, Kaylee grabbed a tray of food and winked at Zach. "There goes my calm."

"I'll start working on the sign." Inara promised solemnly.

Under the table, Wash caught up Mal's hand and laced their fingers together.

"Calm is overrated." He said quietly. "And anyway, I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be. Especially if Simon's about to beat up Jayne."

"No one's beating up anyone." Mal said firmly, squeezing Wash's hand. "Sit down and eat the food Kaylee was nice enough to make for you heathens."

Simon and Jayne sat down, still staring wearily at each other. Dinner passed in quiet tension and everyone adjourned to their private pursuits until Kaylee came back down the stairs. River followed after looking very well rested and only a little stained from eating soup in bed.

"It's late enough!" She called out. "Let's call this midnight and have our celebration now. Then the men can go look in on our Firefly."

"Bossy lady." Zach chided her, but obediently got out the good crystal glasses and poured the only bottle of wine they kept in the house. Once everyone held a glass, they turned to Mal.

"A toast then." He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "You all make me crazy most of the time, but I can't think of a crew I'd rather have. So to you all, may this year be better than the last."

"Not crew." Kaylee interrupted. "Family."

"To family!" Wash agreed loudly. They all clicked their glasses together agreeably and drank them down.

"Now kisses." Insisted Kaylee and she circled the room bestowing a kiss on all of them. She even brushed one over Inara's cheek, who to everyone's surprise, blushed.

"Me too!" River grinned and launched herself up with Jayne. He caught her, staggering and wasn't prepared for the long lingering token of affection she gave him.

"River!" Simon pulled her off, looking thoroughly scandalized.

"Happy New Year!" She beamed and kissed her brother on the cheek.

Zach raised his glass again and said with a laugh:

"To Serenity!"

"To Serenity!" They all cheered back and finished off the last of the wine.


End file.
